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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27920209">Unrequited</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarreloBonkers/pseuds/BarreloBonkers'>BarreloBonkers</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Preacher (Comics), Preacher (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempted Sexual Assault, Drug Abuse, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Full Shift Werewolves, Harassment, Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, M/M, Multi, Non-Consensual Groping, Sexual Harassment, Slow Burn, Threesome - F/M/M, Unrequited Love, Were-Creatures</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:01:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>252,786</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27920209</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarreloBonkers/pseuds/BarreloBonkers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I knew that Cassidy would never love me the way I loved him. I knew that as much fun as we had, and as much as he cared, I was just a placeholder. A substitution for who he really wanted. But the knowing didn't stop me loving him.<br/>WIP. A tagalong-OC fic that I plan to cover most of the content of the series, potentially beyond. We are currently at season 4, episode 10.<br/>Gifted to ineffable_crepes who has been an absolute angel and is the reason I'm feeling brave enough to write AND post.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jesse Custer/Tulip O'Hare, Proinsias Cassidy/Eccarius/Original Female Character(s), Proinsias Cassidy/Original Female Character(s), Proinsias Cassidy/Tulip O'Hare/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>180</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The PoDunk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/gifts"></a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“No. No! Nononono! NO!”</p>
<p>Tears welled in my eyes. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. Happening to me <em>already</em>.</p>
<p>The whining coming from my car’s engine ramped up to a frenzied pitch, and the vibrating of the frame surged with it. The car gave a final lurch forward, and then began to slow as it coasted. I pumped the gas, with no response. Lucky for me, the brakes still worked. I eased over to the shoulder of the road and slammed the hazards button to warn other drivers away.</p>
<p>Tears overflowed and ran down my cheeks as I turned the engine off. I swiped at them angrily and pounded the steering wheel so hard I was sure I’d have bruises.</p>
<p>“<em>SHIIIIIT!</em>”</p>
<p>I don’t know if I was screaming at my car, myself, the dusty road stretching ahead or the birds wheeling above. The screaming didn’t make me feel better, but it did take the edge off of my anger and frustration. I used the hem of my T-shirt to scrub the last of my tears away and tried to think. I ran a palm over the bristles of my shaved head as I considered.</p>
<p>Calling my family for help was <em>not</em> an option. I was finally out of there, and I was not going to go back.</p>
<p>I didn’t know anything about cars. I didn’t even know for sure what had gone wrong with the engine. Even if I did, the tools at my disposal to try to fix it were limited to a single adjustable wrench and possibly an old burned-out fuse.</p>
<p>About a quarter of a mile up I could see a sign of the ‘now entering’ or ‘now leaving’ variety. I squinted, but couldn’t make it out. But a sign probably meant people, and maybe a mechanic.</p>
<p>I nodded once, confirming my course of action to myself. I’d take a walk up to the sign and see if it told me how far I was from some kind of town, and if it was more than a few miles I’d come back and call my family. I pocketed my keys and, after checking for oncoming traffic, got out of the car. Part of me wanted to kick her, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. She was a good old car, it wasn’t her fault she had a negligent owner. I flipped my sunglasses from where they rested on my head to over my eyes and grabbed the duffel bag that held all of my worldly belongings out of the back seat. I could already feel sweat soaking through my shirt as I began trudging toward the sign.</p>
<p>As it turned out, what the sign said was ‘Welcome to Annville’. I tried to remember seeing Annville on a map, or ever having heard of it, with no luck. A Podunk, then. Despite being at the apparent town limits, the town was just barely visible as a glimmer in the distance. A neglected-looking church stood a little more than halfway between me and the few buildings that made up the town proper. Well, their whole thing was that they were supposed to help the poor and weary, and hopefully the sweaty. I hoisted my duffel bag higher on my shoulder and continued down the road.</p>
<p>After what felt like another hour slogging toward the church, I was able to read the sign at the end of the driveway. All Saint’s Congregational. The marquee had presumably been sabotaged by local kids, as it simply read, ‘WELCOME ASS’.</p>
<p>I peered up the long driveway and sighed. Against all logic, and despite my best interests, I was getting <em>supremely</em> annoyed. Annoyed at the car for quitting, annoyed at Texas for being so hot, annoyed at my clothes for clinging stickily to my skin, and now <em>extra</em> annoyed at this <em>fucking</em> driveway for being so <em>goddamn long</em>. I knew I was reacting like a crabby, overtired child, and inhaled deeply to try to calm myself. No dice. I growled under my breath and headed up the driveway. As I got closer, I could see the white paint flaking on most of the church’s boards, and a massive air conditioner sat abandoned on the church lawn.</p>
<p>I realized as I reached the door that it was Wednesday. The sudden realization that there might be no one in the church at all made my stomach drop and my frustration rise. Before I could get too hung up on the idea that I hiked all the way up the pot-holey, dusty, buggy driveway for no reason I raised a fist and pounded on the door.</p>
<p>I shifted from foot to foot as I waited. I moved my duffel bag from one shoulder to another and toed at the dirt. Just as I was trying to decide whether I’d rather continue the walk to town or call my family, the door creaked open.</p>
<p>The man who opened the door wore all black, with a white collar that denoted him as a priest, or pastor, or something. He was average height, which already made him a head taller than me, and his hair was carefully coiffed to add another couple of inches. His build was slight, and he had a pretty face, although it was set in a hangdog expression just now.</p>
<p>“Can I help you, kid?”</p>
<p>Indignation surfaced immediately. “I’m not a <em>kid</em>, I am <em>twenty-four years old</em>, and I—” I cut myself off as I realized I was being kind of an asshole to the first person I’d encountered since my car died. “Sorry. I’m stranded. Can you help me?”</p>
<p>The preacher stepped back and opened the door to let me in. It was nice to be out of the sun, but the church barely felt any cooler than outside. Still, I was grateful to plunk down on one of the pews.</p>
<p>“Water?” I nodded gratefully and he left the room. I took a moment to study my surroundings. The inside of the church was better maintained than the outside, with immaculate white paint and an ornate pulpit at the front. The preacher returned with a tall glass of water. It was room temperature, but I gulped it anyway. I didn’t think to be self conscious until the glass was empty and I was partway through wiping my mouth on my sleeve. I felt my cheeks redden.</p>
<p>“Thank you.” I hesitated. “I’m Juniper.” I didn’t <em>think</em> anyone would be looking for me, but left off my last name, just in case.</p>
<p>“Nice to meet you, Juniper. I’m Jesse Custer.” He offered a hand, and I shook it. “Are you a runaway?”</p>
<p>“No!” Jesse raised his eyebrows and I realized my answer had been a bit too quickly. “I mean…no. I’m just traveling. My car broke down.” I waved a hand back in the direction of the road, and he nodded.</p>
<p>“Do you have people you can call, help you out?”</p>
<p>I bit my lip. Lying in church was probably a sin. “No people I wanna call.” Jesse mulled this over and nodded after a moment.</p>
<p>“Do you have any cash? Local mechanic has a tow truck, he could get you into town ‘n take a look.”</p>
<p>Annoyingly, I could feel tears coming again as the relief of a solution swelled in my chest like a balloon.</p>
<p>“Yes, I have money. I appreciate it. Can I have more water, please?” Jesse nodded and gestured for me to follow him. He led me into a dine-in kitchen attached to the church, and I filled my glass. I sat at the table and sipped it slower this time, listening as he called up the local mechanic. He confirmed that the tow truck would come to get me at All Saints’ Congregational and hung up. Then he spun a chair around to straddle it backwards, facing me across the table. He spent a few moments silently appraising me. My cheeks began to heat up and I lowered my gaze to my glass.</p>
<p>“You in any kind of legal trouble?”</p>
<p>“No!” My eyes raised to meet his for a moment, then I looked back down. “Just traveling, like I said.” I cringed internally. If the roles were reversed, there was no way I’d believe him. But Jesse either accepted me at my word, or didn’t care if I was lying.</p>
<p>“You got enough money for a place to stay?” I didn’t know much about car repairs, but I knew they weren’t cheap, and my funds were limited. I shook my head, biting my cheek. My face burned clear up to my forehead with the shame of being so helpless. “We got an attic here, and all the amenities. It’s hot as hell, ‘specially with their air conditioning out, but it’s private. And free.”</p>
<p>I raised my eyes to meet his, as my mouth fell open into a small ‘o’ of surprise. “Really? That would be…okay? I mean, is it still okay if I’m not really…religious?”</p>
<p>Jesse gave a short laugh. His grin was uneven and a little rueful. “Yeah, yeah, it’s alright. C’mon.” I grabbed my duffel bag and followed him up a narrow staircase.</p>
<p>Jesse was right, it was roasting hot in the attic. But the space was wide open with old exposed beams and a single large window set in what would be front wall of the church. A few dusty boxes rested in one corner, but the rest of the space was clear. I couldn’t help grinning widely.</p>
<p>“Oh Jesse, it’s perfect! Thank you <em>so</em> much!” Without thinking I dropped my duffel bag and threw my arms around him. Half a second later my brain caught up with my body and I dropped my arms and took a step back. “Um…thanks. Let me know if I can do anything to repay you?” I smiled bashfully up at him, and after a moment he flashed that crooked grin again.</p>
<p>I could do alright here. Things would be fine.</p>
<p>~~~~~~~~~<br/>The mechanic—Earnest, of Earnest’s Honest Auto Shop according to the patch on his stained coveralls—sucked his teeth and shot me a sympathetic look. “Sorry t’ say, little lady, but you’re gonna need a new tranny.”</p>
<p>“Is that, um….is that expensive?” Of course, by my current standard pretty much any kind of car repair was going to be expensive, but it was beginning to seem like this was going to be bad on a grander scale.</p>
<p>“Well…if I c’n find one used it’d be…ahh, let’s see…’bout twelve hunnert is what they run…If we go new it’d be closer to twenny-five hunnert. Then a’course there’s the labor. Hourly rate is seventy-five ‘n hour, plus…”</p>
<p>For the third time that day (which is three too many times, for the record), I felt tears brimming in my eyes. It took me a couple tries to speak, and my ears flamed. “I don’t…I don’t have that.” Immediately Earnest took his hands off my car and shoved them in his coverall pockets. He watched me silently and I lowered my eyes to the floor.</p>
<p>Jesse took pity on me. “Earnest, ain’t there some way you could work it out? Maybe a payment plan? It’s the Christian thing to do.”</p>
<p>Earnest’s sleepy appearance was gone in a flash, replaced with venom. “Ain’t no one in this town can afford to work for free, <em>preacher</em>.” He spat the last word like an insult. Jesse took it in stride.</p>
<p>“Alright. We’ll leave the car here for now and figure somethin’ out. Let’s go, Juniper.”</p>
<p>I went on a last hunt through the car to make sure I had all my things--I’d missed half a bag of gummi worms, degraded to a shapeless gummi mystery mass in the heat, and my cupholder full of grimy change, I clunked the car door closed and handed Earnest the keys. Again, I felt a lump in my throat. I knew it was just a car, and not even a very nice car at that. But it felt like saying goodbye to another piece of home.</p>
<p>Feeling a bit silly, I gently touched the hood in farewell before I turned and followed Jesse to his truck.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Intrusion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper settles into Annville. Cassidy rolls into town.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Juniper not understanding what Cassidy is saying is true to my own experience of having no idea what the fuck was happening whenever Cassidy spoke for most of season 1. I WILL NOT be writing his accent this way for the whole work, don't worry.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After that first terrible day, things in Annville got better. Jesse introduced me to the church organist, Emily. She was a tall, pretty woman with striking light blue eyes, rich brown hair, and a very obvious, very unrequited crush on Jesse. She was able to get me a job washing dishes at Annville’s diner, the Flavour Station. The job was gross, but bearable. The rest of the staff was friendly enough, and for most of my shift I could turn off my brain and scrub mindlessly as 90s one-hit wonders played on the radio.</p><p>I insisted on giving some of my pay to Jesse in return for use of the church attic, but even so my savings were growing nicely. I felt comfortable enough to start making the attic my own—I strung some second-hand white Christmas lights through the rafters and hung a gauzy, lilac purple sheet across the window for a curtain. I tacked up a few magazine pictures of cars—mostly red ones that looked sleek and fast. I knew I’d never afford one like that, but they reminded me why I was turning up at Flavour Station five nights a week to scrape strangers’ half eaten food into the trash and scrub dried ketchup stains off ceramic plates. Most afternoons I’d spend in the church proper or the little kitchen tucked in behind it, to escape from the heat and to spend some time with Jesse or Emily or both. On my days off I’d pick away at tasks long left undone around the church—sweeping cobwebs out of corners, weeding the front lawn, tucking a level under a wobbly pew here and there.</p><p>Annville wasn’t the adventure I’d been looking for, and hardly where I’d hoped to end up, but it was a nice little life. For a while.</p><p>The night that <em>he</em> showed up had been my first truly challenging night at work. One of the busboys had failed to tell me when he threw a steak knife in the sudsy sink, and when I reached in to wash I sliced my finger open. We were too understaffed for me to do much about it other than slap a bandaid on it and work wearing a glove, and somehow washing dishes wearing a soggy glove was even less pleasant than washing them bare handed. Then, in a moment of sheer stupidity that I can only blame on myself (which made it all the more frustrating), I turned the hose on a ladle at full blast and got a face full of hot water, complete with chili chunks.</p><p>Needless to say, when I trudged into the church at just after 2am, I just wanted to sleep for about eighteen hours. I was through the door and nearly halfway up the aisle before I fully registered the scene in front of me. I stopped short.</p><p>The pulpit had been knocked askew. The large cross that hung on the wall behind it had fallen to the floor. But in Annville, property damage was unexceptional.</p><p>What stopped me was that Jesse was lying unconscious at the alter. A stranger was crouching over him, muttering. A lanky, skinny, grungy looking stranger. I was immediately on edge, my lip curling back from my teeth. I straightened and squared my shoulders to make the most of my five-foot-two frame.</p><p>“<em>Who are you</em>?” I tried (with a fair amount of success, I might add) to make my voice authoritative. Commanding. I wished I had my phone on me to call for help.</p><p>The stranger straightened. He seemed very tall, and looked at me like I was a minor inconvenience at best. I fought the urge to swallow hard.</p><p>“’M Jeessuh herr’s bes’ mayte, n who mit I ask err you?” He said this very fast. He’d seemed to understand my question, but I wasn’t totally sure that he’d responded in English. I gathered myself and took two steps closer, inflating my chest.</p><p>“<em>What are you doing here?</em>” I tried to draw myself up even taller, though even at my limit I was a full head shorter than the man and then some. The stranger rolled his eyes, as if his lightning quick and unintelligible response to the first question should have been enough to send me on my way.</p><p>“Aye w’s stawppin bah t’ see th’ purrdray, y’see, n found ‘im like th’s.” This was emphasized by a stabbing gesture in the direction of Jesse’s prone body, though still unintelligible. He was starting to look frustrated.</p><p>“Now listen. I don’t know who you are but you’d better get out of here.” The pitch of my voice dropped and took another step forward, bringing me even with the front row of pews. I was only feet from the stranger. His expression began to shift from confused and frustrated to angry.</p><p>“Aye’ve <em>tol</em>jer who aye ahm ‘n wee imm here n aye dunt see as it’s any o’ yerr business—”</p><p>“I don’t understand what you’re saying!” I burst out. Now his lip curled to mirror mine, and when he spoke again it was with a near perfect mockery of the native Annville twang.</p><p>“It’s not my fault—” He took a prowling step toward me, “—that no one in this GODfersaken shithole—” Another step closer, “—understands plain bloody English!” He took a third long step and had closed the distance between us. We stood nearly nose to nose, me leaning forward on my toes and him looming over me, wearing matching snarls. I could hear the blood whooshing in my ears and an itchy prickle began in my scalp and moved down my body.</p><p>“You need to leave <em>right now</em>,” I growled through a mouth that suddenly felt too full.</p><p>“’N if I don’t?” His eyes were cold, but his mouth twisted in a smile, like he hoped I’d try something.</p><p>The church doors boomed open and the stranger and I sprang apart. It was Emily.</p><p>“Jesse? You forgot your…keys…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Nemesis</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cassidy ruins everything.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That was the night I learned Emily had mastered de-escalation skills—a necessary ability for a mother of three, I suppose. Five minutes after she found us ready to tear each other apart, we were sat at the small table in the church’s kitchen, me glaring resentfully at Cassidy (as I’d learned his name was) and him doing his best to pour the charm on for Emily.</p><p>“Okay….tell me what happened.” She leaned forward and folded her hands on the table.</p><p>I inhaled deeply through my nose, trying to be calm. “I was coming back from work. I walked in and saw the church….like that. Jesse was on the floor out cold and this—” I cut myself off and took another deep breath. “And <em>Cassidy</em> was standing over him.”</p><p>“An’ not doin’ a single t’ing wrong to ‘im!” Cassidy interjected. I opened my mouth to respond but before I could, Emily gave a sharp ‘AH!’ and held up a finger. I shut my mouth and crossed my arms, glaring balefully.</p><p>“Cassidy? What happened?”</p><p>“Right. The padre ‘n I met at the pub this evenin’, before everyt’in’ went balls up mind you, I di’nt have anyt’ing to do wit’ that—” I could tell he was making an effort to slow down and enunciate, but his efforts just felt condescending and incensed me further. “The padre ‘n I, we made fast friends at the pub ‘n then at, you know, the clinker.” My eyebrows shot up, as this was the first I’d heard of anyone going to jail. “Then when I got <em>out</em> o’ the clinker I t’ought, listen I need me a place to stay, why not got see if my pal Jesse Custer can help. I hiked out here to th’ church ‘n I <em>found him</em>—” he paused to shoot a pointed scowl my way, “—laid out on th’ floor and went to help! And this—” he waved a hand at me, brow furrowed, “What’s yer name, lass?”</p><p>“<em>Juniper</em>,” I ground out. He did a double take and a small smirk crossed his face.</p><p>“Suits you.” I was sure it was an insult but not how, and my eyes narrowed, but he was already moving on. “Anyway, <em>Juniper</em> here found me tryin’ t’ wake him ‘n assumed the worst. An’ then you showed up and saved the day before she could tear me to shreds.” He flashed what I assumed was meant to be a dazzling smile at Emily, who appeared unmoved. She looked at me, her face apologetic.</p><p>“I mean…the first part of his story is true. Jesse was in the drunk tank tonight.” Behind her back, Cassidy’s expression turned gloating. The triumphant smile was replaced with a deadly serious face as soon as Emily turned to face him. “So I expect the rest is true, too?” She paused, considering. “And the condition Jesse was in, it wouldn’t be <em>too</em> farfetched to say he passed out all on his own…”</p><p>My jaw dropped. “You believe this…this <em>creep</em>?!” I didn’t like him, and I didn’t trust him. His clothes were weird, his speech was weird, everything about him was <em>weird</em>. <em>And</em> he’d been stooped over Jesse like some kind of predator. My skin began to prickle, and I focused on staying calm. It was made all the more difficult when Cassidy gave me a reproachful look and waggled a finger in my face.</p><p>“Now listen here missy. I am many t’ings, but I am not a creep. On my honor, I would never hurt my good pal Jesse Custer.”</p><p>I wanted to bite his hand off.</p><p>Emily spoke again, probably hoping to avoid the physical altercation she saw coming. “Did you say you have nowhere to stay, Cassidy?”</p><p>Cassidy quit smirking at me and turned his attention back to Emily. “Yeah, I bin sleepin’ rough the las’ little bit. ‘S alright….’s pretty warm out these days…” He put on an expression of faux bravado that was transparently intended to draw sympathy.</p><p>At least I thought it was transparent. Emily gave me another apologetic look, as if she knew I wouldn’t like what was coming. “Well, what if…” Her eyes flicked upward, toward the attic. <em>My </em>attic.</p><p>“No!” I growled. The attic was just starting to feel mine, to feel like home.</p><p>“You can stay at my place! Tommy and Elliot can share a room for a bit…It’ll be fun.”</p><p>Great. Walking right back into a smotheringly crowded home. Exactly what I wanted to avoid.</p><p>“It’s the Christian thing to do, Juniper…” I growled under my breath.</p><p>“I’m not a Christian though, am I?” I was weakening. Emily’s pleading doe-eyes were deadly. It was unfair, manipulative. Cassidy was shifting his gaze from me, to Emily, and back to me like a spectator at a ping-pong match.</p><p>Emily saw my weakness, and played her trump card.</p><p>“I have central air…” She drew out the last two words, trying to sound tempting. I exhaled sharply and stood abruptly, my chair scraping out behind me.</p><p>“Fine!” I wheeled and stomped up the stairs. I heard Cassidy’s chair grate against the floor as he stood.</p><p>“Excellent! Let’s see me new gaff!”</p><p>I heard him come up the stairs behind me, but refused to look at him as I unwound my string lights from the rafters and stripped my pictures from the walls.</p><p>“Love whatch’ve done wit’ the place. Cute.” I continued to ignore him, stuffing my belongings into my duffel bag. I even managed to mash the pillow in there—it was borrowed, and lumpy, but he’d have it over my dead body. Once I wrestled the zipper closed, I stalked past him to the window and began wrestling with the tacks I’d used to hang my makeshift curtain. “Leave th’ curtain,” Cassidy said from behind me. I spun to face him, hands on my hips, ready to take a strip off him. I hesitated when I saw his face, looking human for the first time that night. He was actually looking at me, not like an inconvenience or object of mockery, but like a person. “<em>Please</em> leave the curtain.” He smiled, genuinely this time, as if trying to show me he could play nice. I considered the request and nodded once. “T’ank ye.”</p><p>I allowed myself the barest smile. <em>Maybe</em> he wasn’t a creep.</p><p>Just then, he tossed my duffel bag none too gently to the floor and threw himself backward onto the mattress.</p><p>“It’s ugly as sin, but it’ll keep th’ sun out ‘til I get somet’in’ in a reas’nable color.” He was smirking at me again.</p><p>I clenched my fists and my smile turned into a scowl. I snatched my bag off the floor and slung it over my shoulder roughly. As I stomped down the stairs, I could hear him chuckling behind me.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Take Me to Church</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There had been suspicion growing in the back of my mind for the last three days, but this morning confirmed it beyond any doubt.</p><p>Emily Woodrow was a goddamn superhero.</p><p>Jesse hadn’t woken up the morning after Cassidy got me evicted from the church attic—he was still in the same spot on the alter when Emily checked on him. What we initially thought was normal drunken unconsciousness turned out to be something more. He was more or less stable, just unconscious and a bit feverish. Emily knew he didn’t have insurance of any kind, and he’d be furious if he woke up to a hefty medical bill, so we decided as long as he didn’t get worse we could handle it. When it became clear that he wasn’t going to wake up on his own on morning one, Emily and I hauled him to his bed, stripped off his boots, and along with Cassidy (much to my annoyance), set a schedule to keep an eye on him.</p><p>Which brings us to this morning. It was Sunday morning, and since Emily had to be at the church to turn away patrons if Jesse didn’t wake up, I had optimistically agreed to get Tommy, Elliot, and Alice up and ready for church.</p><p>I was not prepared.</p><p>Alice had gotten dressed all on her own, then promptly spilled milk all down her front as she poured her cereal. After mopping her up as best I could, I sent her back upstairs to change. Tommy and Elliot were still in their pyjamas and fighting over the remote, showing no inclination to get dressed or eat breakfast or show up to church at all. To top it off, the mayor had shown up, and while he was doing a great deal of hand waving and offering to help, he wasn’t actually <em>helping</em>. Every minor frustration ratcheted up my resentment toward Cassidy. It was his fault when I stepped in spilled milk in my socks, his doing that I was now sharing a bathroom with four other people (three of whom hadn’t mastered the fact that you pee <em>into the toilet</em>), his responsibility that I’d been downgraded from a beautiful spacious attic to a child-sized bed in a room covered in Power Rangers posters and knockoff Transformers action figures. As I heard Tommy and Elliot start up their arguing from the living room a<em>gain</em>, I could quite happily have run Cassidy over with a car. I had absolutely no idea how any human being could handle the chaos on a regular basis. Hence: Superhero.</p><p>As I was pulling two more bowls down for cereal, my phone rang. I snatched it out of my pocket and held it to my ear, trying to juggle the bowls and a box of cereal as I did.</p><p>“Hello?!” I hoped that my voice didn’t sound as hectic as I felt.</p><p>“June? He’s awake.” It was Emily. I closed my eyes for a moment as tension I hadn’t realized I was holding was released.</p><p>“I’m on my way.” I hung up the phone and plunked the bowls down on the table. Miles was listening indulgently as Alice chattered about She-Ra. “I gotta go. Are you okay to finish getting them ready?”</p><p>Miles looked taken aback for a moment, but to his credit nodded gamely. “Yeah, we’re good. Everything alright?”</p><p>“It’s fine…” I was already distracted, yanking my shoes on. “Um, can I use your car? It’ll be easier than moving the car seats over from the van…”</p><p>This gave Miles a bit more pause, possibly because it was a favor for me rather than Emily. “Uh…sure, I guess…” He’d barely pulled his keys from his pocket before I snatched them from his hand.</p><p>I was already halfway out the door before I remembered my manners. “Thanks!” I raised a hand in a wave without looking back, and I was gone.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Other than being very hungry, Jesse seemed perfectly fine. By the time I got to All Saints, he’d showered and changed and was on his third bowl of Boo Berry cereal. Emily and I sat at the table with him, trying to make sense of his sudden vitality.</p><p>“Are you…sure you want to go ahead with the service today?” Emily asked for the fifth time since I arrived.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>,” Jesse said again, though he was uncharacteristically unbothered by her questioning. I wondered to myself if this newfound tolerance was simply the result of him being sober for three full days and nights. “Fact, do we still have the baptismal font around?”</p><p>“You mean the old aluminum horse waterer?” I snorted a laugh, but the look Emily shot me told me that she was not, in fact, joking. I quickly hid my grin. “Yes,” she said. “We still have it.”</p><p>At that moment, Cassidy thumped down the stairs wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a thin, ratty blanket around his shoulders. “Murnin,’” he said by way of greeting, and ambled past us to dig through the fridge. I rolled my eyes at Emily, who shared my distaste.</p><p>“Cass! Just the man I need. We got a baptismal font out back—” Jesse caught my look of amusement and corrected himself, rolling his eyes. “A <em>water trough</em> out back that needs to be brought around front ‘n filled up before service today.”</p><p>Cassidy straightened and took a great swig directly from the milk carton—the <em>shared</em> milk carton—before answering. “Ah, no can do, Padre. ‘Fraid I got too much to do today, much too busy fer that I’m afraid.” With that he set the still-open milk on the counter and sauntered back up the attic stairs. Emily and I stared at each other open mouthed, but Jesse seemed to take it completely in stride. He turned his attention to me.</p><p>“C’mon, let’s get it done while Em puts out the hymnals.” He stood and quickly rinsed his bowl in the sink. I shut my mouth with an audible click and ground my teeth so hard it hurt, but I stood to follow Jesse.</p><p>As I stalked out of the kitchen, I pointedly ignored the open milk on the counter, feeling too spiteful to care if it spoiled.</p><p>~~~~<br/>Despite the questionable quality of the ‘baptismal font’—did you get bonus points with God if you were baptized in rusty, tetanus-tainted water?—Jesse’s enthusiasm infected the congregation and they lined up to be washed clean of their sins. I stood in the shade of the church, feeling every inch an interloper. I wasn’t sure whether it was more rude to get baptized when I’d never called myself a Christian, or to stand by and watch but refuse to partake.</p><p>When most of the worshippers had been baptized, a cloud of dust in the driveway announced the arrival of a car painted such a dark purple it appeared nearly black. The driver pulled in too fast and jerked to a stop, kicking up more dust. I appeared to be the only one who noticed the woman who got out. She was just a bit taller than me, with short, dark hair and skin like brown sugar. She wore a tight, white crop top that contrasted her skin beautifully.</p><p>Jesse didn’t notice her approach, too caught up in his soul saving.</p><p>“Save me father.” She had his attention as soon as he spoke. I didn’t hear what he responded, but he didn’t look happy to see her. “<em>Save</em> me, father!” she repeated, climbing into the font without waiting to be called forward. Looking reluctant, Jesse relented. She rose from the baptismal font with her already fitted white shirt clinging to her indecently but her makeup miraculously in tact. As soon as the job was done she strode away without a word, ignoring the towel Emily offered her as she returned to her car. Her tires spun in the dirt as she slammed on the gas and was gone as quickly as she came.</p><p>Odd as her appearance was, I was grateful. At least I wasn’t the strangest stranger at the service any more.</p><p>~~~~~<br/>I was ready to <em>leave</em>. The little kitchen and common area was even hotter than usual crowded with people, and it was exhausting being the only person present who wasn’t born and raised in Annville. No one was outright unfriendly, but they didn’t make any special effort to include me, either, and the exclusion hurt. But Emily was the one with the vehicle, so until she decided it was time to leave (which of course, wouldn’t be until everyone but Jesse and Cassidy had left) I was stranded.</p><p>I sat by myself at the small kitchen table nursing a lukewarm coffee, and shredding an empty sugar packet. I watched as Jesse visited with parishioners and Emily struggled with the cappuccino machine and her obvious impatience with Miles. My mood darkened as Cassidy strode in the kitchen. He kept his sunglasses on but lowered them to the end his nose as he scanned the room. When he spotted Emily, he pushed them back up and gathered himself for a moment before approaching her. I kept my eyes on the sugar packet but couldn’t help raising my eyebrows as he pleaded for some cash to help an ailing grandmother. Emily didn’t fall for it, and he proceeded to his second argument: needing money for drugs. I felt my eyebrows lift nearly to my hairline at his boldness. I couldn’t help a tiny smirk as Emily scoffed at him and walked away.</p><p>My frown returned and my body tensed as Cassidy threw himself down at the table. “Eavesdroppin’s a sin, you know.” I refused to look at him, but I could feel color flooding my face.</p><p>“Pretty sure it’s not eavesdropping if the person is yelling for all the world to hear,” I shot back. “And what do you care about sinning anyway? I noticed you were missing from the service today.”</p><p>“Fer your infermation, I had t’ings to do today! Impurrtant things!” I finally looked up at him with a deadpan, disbelieving expression. “’N what about you then, eh? I saw yeh standin off ter the side like you were afraid the blessed water would burn yer skin! What do you have to say for <em>yer</em>self, eh?”</p><p>“I don’t have to explain anything to you!” I hissed under my breath. I finally raised my eyes to glare at him. Over the rims of his sunglasses his eyes sparkled. He was clearly enjoying himself.</p><p>“No, that you don’t, that you don’t. But it’s certainly unchristianlike, you criticizin’ me for not gettin’ baptized while I was workin’ when you were standin’ right there and chose not to yerself.” He waggled his finger in my face in the same patronizing way he had the night we met.</p><p>I growled softly and clenched my fists, blood singing in my ears. I really <em>hated</em> that man. Before I could make a scene I stood and strode away to wait outside in the sun for Emily.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Monsters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I was on my hands and knees, digging through the couch cushions. “Tommy are you <em>sure</em> you haven’t seen it?!” I was frantic, but Tommy could barely keep himself from giggling as he shook his head. My phone was missing. Phones are replaceable obviously, but all of the pictures and videos weren’t. Neither was my high score in Cat Stack. I had to restrain myself from flinging the cushions onto the floor as I searched. I’d already turned my borrowed room upside down and tried calling from the house line with no success.</p><p>“All right, listen, calm down—” I glared at Emily and she looked apologetic. “Okay, don’t calm down. But when did you use it last?”</p><p>I threw myself onto the couch and frowned as I tried to think. “I…used the GPS to get from here to church yesterday.”</p><p>“Good! Then what?” Emily nodded encouragingly.</p><p>“I…oh fu—” I remembered that the kids were in the room just in time, “—<em>rick</em>. I left it in Miles’ car.”</p><p>“Well that’s easy enough to fix! I’ll call him up and get him to drop it off! He should still be up.” Emily smiled brightly and I returned it, relieved. “Back in a jiff!” She left the room to make the call and I turned my attention to My Little Pony, Alice’s current favorite. Emily returned a few minutes later, looking hesitant. “Okay. Well. We know where your phone is…” I narrowed my eyes, suspicious. “He said he was looking for you to give it back and couldn’t find you but Cassidy said you were <em>mates</em> and he’d hang onto it.” She said this last bit in a rush and then waited apprehensively for my reaction.</p><p>I groaned loudly. “<em>Why </em>is that man so intent on ruining my <em>life?</em>” Emily shrugged helplessly and I sighed. “Can I take the van?”</p><p>“Of course! It’s got a bat between the front seats and everything!” Emily grinned as if she was joking, but I wasn’t sure that murder was off the table for me at this point.</p><p>“Thanks, Em. I promise I’ll replace it if he breaks it with his big stupid head.” I snatched the keys off their hook and swept out the door.<br/>~~~~~~<br/>By the time I reached the church I was well and truly incensed. The poor van bore the brunt of my anger, the brakes squealing as I jerked into a parking spot. If Cassidy didn’t like me I didn’t know why he couldn’t just ignore me like a normal person and insisted on badgering me at every opportunity. I considered rummaging around for the bat Emily had mentioned, but decided against it. With a weapon in my hand, the temptation for physical assault would be too strong.</p><p>As I stalked toward the church, I realized I could hear a voice. The words were indistinguishable, but it was definitely Cassidy. My lip lifted in a sneer and I picked up my pace.</p><p>When I was only a few steps from the door, a sudden reverberating <em>boom</em> cut through the air. I struggled to identify the sound, because it was so out of place in a church.</p><p>A gunshot.</p><p>I raced the last few steps to the church and flung open the doors.</p><p>The scene that greeted me was as horrifying as it was bizarre. Cassidy lay groaning on the floor, a red stain spreading across his shirt, clinging desperately at the gaping hole in his stomach that his innards were drooping out of. A short, scruffy man dressed all in khaki  was making his slow way up the aisle toward Cassidy, though when he heard the doors open he shifted his attention to me.</p><p>A second, taller man in an identical getup stood at the front of the church, revving a chainsaw. Jesse lay unconscious at his feet.</p><p>The shorter man began to raise his gun, training it on me. Before he could complete the motion, he screamed and dropped his gaze to his feet, where Cassidy was…<em>tearing away a mouthful of his ankle?</em></p><p>I didn’t have time to consider this, because the taller man had his chainsaw running and was ready to join the fray. I hesitated for a split second.</p><p><em>To hell with it</em>, I thought, and kicked off my shoes.</p><p>The itching, full body prickle came first as my body hair began to thicken and lengthen. The bones of my jaw creaked and protested as my teeth shifted and grew and new ones sprouted where there hadn’t been any before. There was a pulling and tearing sensation in my scalp as my ears shifted to the top of my body. My fingers snapped and popped as they collapsed in on themselves, becoming shorter and thicker. My nails grew long, curved, and sharp—the only part of the process that didn’t hurt. The bones of my hands and feet scraped loudly as they grew longer and denser. The muscles all over my body swelled and as my torso gained bulk there was a long <em>rrriippp</em> as my sundress fell to pieces.</p><p>I tipped forward onto all fours, the transformation complete. I’d forgotten the rush of supreme confidence that accompanied taking on my wolf form, though it would have been impossible not to feel more powerful. My tiny, clumsy, flat-toothed, clawless human body had been overtaken by a massive tawny wolf—my shoulders were level with an average man’s belly button, my canines easily the length of a human pinky. The man with the chainsaw stood frozen, the saw still running in his slack hands. I flicked an ear in Cassidy’s direction, where things had gone strangely quiet. I hazarded a glance and saw that Cassidy and the shorter man were both staring. Cassidy recovered first and took advantage of his opponent’s distraction to bash his nose in with a bible. The man gave an anguished cry, and the fight was back on.</p><p>The shorter man had dropped his gun, and Cassidy appeared to have him well in hand, so I turned my attention to the tall one. I dropped my head and stood stiff-legged with my lip curled harshly back, exposing my teeth clear back to my molars. A warning.</p><p>A warning unheeded. The man raised his chainsaw and moved to step toward me.</p><p>Before he had completed his motion I was leaping to meet him. My first bound carried me to the end of the aisle. I leapt again, my front paws extended to catch him in the chest.</p><p>He swung the saw, and I couldn’t stop a screeching yelp as searing pain bit into me from shoulder to elbow. My momentum carried me into him and sent both of us reeling. Miraculously, he had held onto his chainsaw. Before he could use it again I locked my jaws around his bicep. I relished his scream as I twisted and yanked, pinning his body in place with my forepaws. I felt more than heard a series of cracks as the bones in his arm splintered. I gave another tremendous pull, and there was a loud tearing noise as his arm came away from his body. His screams reached a new pitch. The anguished cries became muffled as I closed his head between my teeth, then abruptly stopped with a <em>crunch </em>as I gave another massive wrench. Not satisfied, I continued to whip my head back and forth until his head abruptly detached from his body. I lost my grip and the head popped out of my jaws, sailing through the air and striking the wall with a <em>thunk </em>that left a glistening spatter of blood above the pulpit.</p><p>In my dismembering of the tall man’s body (<em>not tall anymore though, is he</em>, crowed the wolf gleefully), I hadn’t noticed the chainsaw’s engine carrying it jittering toward Jesse’s unconscious body. It wasn’t until I heard Cassidy come scrambling after it, slipping on the blood-slick floor, that I realized what was happening. His frenzied, scuttling movements tempted the wolf’s prey drive, and I had to clamp down hard to stop myself attacking him.</p><p>He made a last-ditch lunge at the chainsaw’s handle and managed to snag it, then rolled over onto his back, gasping. He looked over to me, taking his time to examine me from nose to tail-tip as he caught his breath. At last he let his head flop back onto Jesse’s thigh, closing his eyes.</p><p>“Good doggy.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope that y'all like the twist here, and that it wasn't too strongly hinted at but not totally out of the blue! Feedback is always appreciated &lt;3</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. True or False</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cassidy and Juniper learn more about each other. Pop culture references abound.</p>
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    <p>I sat on the pew closest to the front of the church, waiting for my shivering and teeth chattering to subside. I was draped in a spectacularly ugly pink paisley muumuu that Cassidy had dug out of the donation box for me, as my sundress was beyond saving. Cassidy sat next to me, silent, covered head to toe in blood. The smell of it rolled off him in waves. He seemed to be waiting for me to speak.</p><p>Apparently, though, he’d reached his limit.</p><p>“You mean t’ tell me that you turn into that <em>t’ing </em>on a reg’lar basis ‘n you never killed anyone before?”</p><p>It was the wrong thing to say. I curled into myself and a dry sob escaped my lips. Despite facing killers armed with guns and chainsaws, it was the first time that evening that Cassidy looked properly frightened. He quickly switched tracks.</p><p>“So you’re a werewolf, eh? But on purpose-like. Like in Twilight.”</p><p>A not-altogether-normal giggle escaped my lips, and I clapped a hand over my mouth for a moment before replying. “Just call me Leah Clearwater, I guess.” I suddenly remembered that I wasn’t the only one hurt. “Oh, Jesus, Cassidy, we need to get you to a hospital! We can take Emily’s van, let’s go!” I scrambled to my feet, though I was still a little unsteady. Cassidy held out his hands in a calming motion.</p><p>“No, no, I’m right as rain, see?” He yanked up the hem of his shredded shirt with one hand. His stomach—his entire torso—was streaked with blood, but there was no wound to be seen. I blinked, not sure how to process what I was seeing.</p><p>“But…you were shot?” He nodded slowly, his eyes watchful. When my silence stretched out, he grimaced a bit, then suddenly grinned.</p><p>He pitched his voice low, dramatic. “Say it. Out loud.”</p><p>I dropped back down on the pew, overwhelmed. “You’re a…a vampire.”</p><p>He nodded. “That’s me. While you were gettin’ dressed I helped myself to a wee nip—” he jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the smaller man’s body, “—and it fixed me right up.” He spoke casually, but he was watching my face carefully for my reaction. I kept my face perfectly blank. When a few moments had gone by and I hadn’t run screaming, he changed tracks again. “I’m more worried about you. That arm looked nasty—d’ye need a doctor?”</p><p>I touched the throbbing wound in my arm. Where a human would still be bleeding, in need of staples or sutures, my wound was already covered over with a rough, knobby scab. “No, I’m okay I think. We heal fast. And if I went to a doctor then we’d have to explain all of…” I waved my hand vaguely at the gore that surrounded us. As the events of the evening returned to the forefront of my mind, I began to shiver again. My teeth chattered.</p><p>Immediately Cassidy knelt in front of me and gripped my upper arms, being mindful of my injury. He stared into my eyes intensely, making sure he had my full attention. “Now you lissen here, Juniper. What happened here tonight was pure self defense. If you hadn’ stepped in, those guys mighta killed me. Self defense isn’t even a crime in Texas. You c’n look it up yerself if you like. Don’t you go beatin’ yerself about for doin’ what yeh needed t’ be safe. Don’t think on it one more minute.”</p><p>I gnawed at my lower lip for a moment before I nodded. “Thanks, Cassidy.” My voice was barely above a whisper, but I managed a small half-smile, which he returned. It felt odd to be reassured by someone whose face was a horror mask of gore and blood. Cassidy straightened and surveyed the mess.</p><p>“Now, you best go on home. I’ve some nasty work to attend to here, an’ you’ve helped plenny already.”</p><p>I followed his gaze, and although I tried to look game, I could feel the blood drain from my face. “I could stay and help?”</p><p>“No, no, y’don’t want t’ be doin’ that. I c’n promise ye.” He pinned the tall man’s arm, hand still clutching the chainsaw, to the floor and worked the saw loose. He raised it and revved it, shooting me a devilish grin. “Say hello to my leetle friend!”</p><p>My eyes widened and I went even paler as I realized what he planned to do, and I dashed up the aisle of the church and out the door, stumbling and slipping in the still-drying blood.</p><p>As the doors creaked shut behind me, I could hear the pitch of the chainsaw’s engine change as the chain encountered resistance, and Cassidy’s cheery whistling.</p><p>~~~<br/>I hesitated when I reached Emily’s van. I could still hear the whine of the chainsaw, and the sound made my stomach heave. But I felt guilty leaving Cassidy to clean up the horrific mess we’d made. I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle helping to…dispose of the bodies…but I could help with the rest--I thought.</p><p>I opened the rear door of the van and sat on the floor, gazing at the church. I took some deep breaths, allowing the cool night air to settle my stomach as I mulled things over.</p><p>A vampire. I’d known that they existed, or at least my family claimed they had, but I’d never really expected to meet one in real life. And Cassidy hardly fit the stereotype of the silent, menacing but somehow intoxicating creature of the night—quite the opposite. But I suppose the same could be said of me.</p><p>It was good, in a way. If he was going to know my secret, I was glad to have a bit of dirt on him as well. I doubted Jesse and Emily realized that they were harboring a vampire, and the way he yammered on, if they didn’t know by now it was because he didn’t want them to. So he couldn’t reveal my secret without the risk of me revealing his. Mutually assured destruction.</p><p>I realized suddenly that the roar of the chainsaw had stopped. I stood and made my way back to the church, my feet dragging. I took a moment to brace myself before I opened the doors, and tried to separate the mess from its cause. The nausea didn’t return, so I stepped into the sanctuary. Cassidy had already fetched a mop and a bucket that smelled strongly of chlorine, even from where I was standing.</p><p>“Is there another mop?” Cassidy gave a small start and turned. He’d given his face a quick scrub, but given up on the remains of his shirt and was bare-chested. I struggled mightily to keep my eyes on his face, which had stretched into a grin.</p><p>“Y’ferget somthin’, lass?” He leaned on the mop handle and popped his hip, then wavered as the mop bucket tried to roll away.</p><p>“No I just…I mean I helped make the mess…” My eyes strayed to the tacky-looking blood stain I’d left high on the wall. “I thought I should stay and help clean it up?”</p><p>“Y’sure you can handle it? Yeh looked a bit peaky when ye left.”</p><p>Indignation furrowed my brow, and I knew that I would stay and help whether or not I could <em>handle it</em> out of pure spite. Maybe that was his plan. “<em>I’ll be fine</em>,” I growled. He let go of the mop handle to hold his hands out in an appeasing gesture.</p><p>“Alright, alright there Cujo, no need to overreact. I’ll get th’ other mop.” He left the room and I snatched up the first mop to start cleaning. <br/>~~~~~<br/>Despite my determination to tough it out, I wasn’t sure I was going to make it. The blood had mostly dried, requiring strenuous scrubbing to pull it from the floorboards and clinging gummily to the mop when we tried to rinse and wring it out. Suddenly my shoe slipped on the floor, and when I peered at the sole to find the cause I saw a shred of skin, complete with short, fine brown hairs, mashed into the treads. My gorge rose as I plucked the flesh from my shoe and flung it away with a squeak. I needed a distraction. Cassidy was mopping industriously and humming, seemingly unbothered by the carnage.</p><p>“Holy water, true or false?” I turned my eyes back to our work. It felt easier to ask such an outlandish question if I didn’t make eye contact. His humming stopped, and it was a long moment before he answered.</p><p>“Naw, that’s false.” A pause. “Silver bullets, true ‘r false?”</p><p>I hadn’t expected him to turn questions around on me. But I figured it was only fair to answer, since he had indulged me. “False. Well, bullets are bullets, so a silver one would work, but they don’t <em>have</em> to be silver.” I glanced over to see him nodding thoughtfully. “Stake through the heart, true or false?”</p><p>“Mighty unpleasant, but wouldn’ put ‘n end to me, if that’s what yer askin’.” He rinsed his mop and it made a wet <em>smack</em> against the floor as he continued to work. “Turned by bitin’ true or false?”  </p><p>“False. I’m on the right track baby, I was born this way.” That got a chuckle out of him. “My family, too. Most of the people I knew growing up were wolves. What about you?”</p><p>“Nah, I was bit.” He pointed at two perfectly round twin scars on the side of his neck. “Only way we come to be, s’far as I know.”</p><p>Before he had a chance, I fired off another question—one that had been gnawing at me for a while. “You…eat people? True or false?” I shrank back from him a bit, nervously anticipating both the answer and his reaction to the question.</p><p>“<em>No</em>, I don’t bloody eat people. Not when I can help it.” His voice was harsh, and his brows were furrowed. “When I can manage—which is most of the time, mind you—I make do wit’ animals.” He spat his next question, intending it to sting. “Murderin’ at the full moon, true or false?”</p><p>I flinched a bit. “It’s…the only time we can’t control the change. The only time we really lose ourselves, I guess. But not usually, no.”</p><p>He glanced over at me, his ire gone, looking puzzled. “So why don’t y’ever hear any more of werewolves rampagin’ small villages ‘n that anymore?”</p><p>“Advancements in veterinary medicine helped a lot. And behavioral science. Now most of us just take a trazodone and make sure there’s a load of chew toys around.” I scrubbed particularly hard at a stubborn blood stain. Effective as it was, I didn’t like admitting that I regularly went to town on an extra-large Kong. I scrambled for a question to turn the attention back to him. “Sparkling in the sun, true or false?” I turned a teasing grin on him, but he didn’t meet my eyes.</p><p>“No. No, I don’t do that.” His voice was uncharacteristically flat. I waited for him to shoot back another question, but it seemed that the game was over.</p><p>We finished the work in silence. After wringing out my mop for the final time, I collapsed onto a pew, yawning hugely. My injured arm throbbed and I couldn’t wait to go to sleep. I eyed Jesse enviously, oblivious to everything that had happened and blissfully unconscious.</p><p>Cassidy grabbed the handle of the gigantic case that presumably held two dismembered bodies. “Right,” he said, dragging the case noisily across the floor. “Ye c’n go on home if ye want. All’s left is—” he threw open the doors and early morning light spilled into the church. He stopped short in the doorway and I saw his shoulders sink. “<em>Shite</em>.” He sank down on the case, the ease and humor gone from his face and frame. I joined him at the door and briefly, hesitantly, touched his shoulder. He looked over at me and tried for his normal easy smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.</p><p>“I’ll come back—” I had to give in to another huge yawn, “I’ll come back tonight and we can finish up.”</p><p>“Oooh, what’ll Annville think, you sneakin’ into the church late at night ‘n not makin’ yer way home til’ mornin’?” I scoffed. “Thank ye, Juniper.” My name was musical in his mouth. Jee-<em>yoo</em>-nipurr.</p><p>“Right. I’ll see you tonight.” I trudged to the van, feet dragging. I was only able to make it back to Emily’s by cranking the radio and smacking my thigh to the beat of whatever old country song was playing. As I crawled into bed, I remembered I was meant to be at work for ten. There was no way I was going to make it. I groped on the night table for my phone, then suddenly groaned out loud.</p><p>I hadn’t asked for it. It was still at the church with Cassidy.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Short and Prickly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper makes good on her word to help bury the bodies. Emily smells a scandal.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Somehow I was able to sleep through Emily getting the kids up and out the door for school, and when they returned home in the afternoon. When I woke up, the angle of the light was all wrong. I rolled over to check the time, and couldn’t hold back a painful moan as I did. My back and arms were stiff from the mopping, and the left one, the one that had been slashed, refused to straighten at all. The clock read 6:48. The sun was low in the sky, its rays stretching across the room to needle me in the eyes. I sat up slowly, my muscles creaking.</p><p>I was <em>starving</em>. Shifting always takes a lot out of you, and I’d been too tired to bother rummaging for food when I got home. I got dressed slowly, resenting the way my long-sleeved t-shirt caught and pulled at the scab on my arm and already bitter about how hot I would be. I shuffled to the bathroom and peered at myself in the mirror. My face was puffy, my eyes red. My hair slicked flat to my head on one side and stuck out straight everywhere else. I rubbed it briskly until it looked intentionally unkempt instead of just unkempt. Then I made my way downstairs.</p><p>Emily was just piling dinner dishes into the dishwasher. She looked up when I came in and raised her eyebrows. “I saved you a plate…you alright?” I grabbed the plate off the counter and began digging in without warming it up or even really registering what I was eating.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah…I’m okay. Just a late night, is all.” I finished the plate, and when I realized there weren’t leftovers I slapped together a PB&amp;J and scarfed it standing at the counter.</p><p>“Martin called. Said you’re too new to be calling a no-show like today. Sorry.” She looked sympathetic. I groaned as I realized I’d never called in. So much for my savings. Emily changed the subject. “Did Cassidy give back your phone?”</p><p>I had to swallow a gigantic wad of bread and peanut butter before I could answer. “I forgot to ask him for it, actually. Is it alright if I use the van to go back to the church tonight? I’ll gas it up on my way home…” Emily looked puzzled, then realization crossed her face and she smiled slyly.</p><p>“Sure you can, June. You go on and have fun with Cassidy…”</p><p>My cheeks flamed. “I’m not…we’re <em>not</em>…It is <em>not</em> like that!”</p><p>Emily just laughed as I stomped out the door.<br/>~~~~<br/>The sun had just dipped below the horizon when I arrived, and Cassidy was already standing outside next to the huge suitcase. He was shirtless again, his tattoos inky in the evening light. I tried not to wince too much as I climbed out of the van.</p><p>“You’re allowed to wear a shirt, you know. Encouraged even,” I grumbled as I approached. He seemed unbothered by my grumpiness.</p><p>“Fer your information I only have t’one, and it’s not in any fit shape to be wearin’ any more.” He grabbed one of the handles of the case, and I grabbed the other, being careful to use only my left arm.</p><p>“Oh.” I was taken aback, and felt guilty. “Sorry.” He brushed me off and we began dragging the chest in the direction of the old dead tree on the church grounds.</p><p>“I wanted t’ apologize to you, actually,” he said without looking at me.</p><p>I blinked. “To me? Why?” Besides running me out of my home and insulting my interior decorating skills and being generally kind of a jerk…</p><p>“These guys….they’re vampire hunters. They keep findin’ me. I dunno how. But if I weren’t here, ye wouldna got caught in the crossfire n’ been hurt.”</p><p>I sucked my teeth, considering this. “I chose to get involved. I could have just run, when I heard the gun go off. It’s not your fault I have a poor sense of self preservation.” He gave a small nod and dropped his side of the case. The sudden weight yanked me off balance before I could let go and I stumbled.</p><p>“This’ll do,” he said. He raised a finger suddenly. “Ah! An’ before I forget.” He dug around in his pocket for a moment and slapped my phone, dead but undamaged, into my hand.</p><p>“Thanks,” I said. Then I paused. “Why’d you even take it, anyway?”</p><p>He handed me a shovel and scooped a spade-full of dirt. “I been t’inkin’ on that, actually. Why we seemed t’ wanna rub each other the wrong way since I got here.”</p><p>“Oh yeah?” I rolled up my sleeves and dug my shovel into the ground. I immediately hissed in pain, my injured arm protesting painfully. I clenched my teeth and managed to dislodge a bit of earth. Cassidy appeared not to notice my struggle.</p><p>“Yeah. I t’ink it has to do wit’ how, in mythology-like, werewolves ‘n vampires are mortal enemies. But we’re like, to a lesser degree.” He continued digging, his body falling easily into a rhythm. Meanwhile, I was still tottering along one meager shovel at a time.</p><p>“Are you referencing Twilight again?” I couldn’t help a small smirk.</p><p>“And Underworld <em>and</em> Vampire Diaries! There’s got to be <em>some</em> trut’ to it, or it wouldn’t keep showing up!”</p><p>Now I couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of an actual vampire watching Vampire Diaries like a fictionalized biopic. “Okay, I guess, maybe. Only instead of killing on sight we just annoy each other to death?”</p><p>He jabbed a finger in my direction, elated that I’d taken his point. “Exactly!” For the first time he seemed to notice how badly I was struggling. “Oh, shit, I di’nt think. You put that down now.” He fluttered his hands at me like an anxious grandmother.</p><p>“I’m <em>fine</em>,” I ground out between pants.</p><p>“No yer not, look! Yer bleedin!”</p><p>I looked down, startled. I’d thought I was just sweating hard, but the scab on my arm had cracked open and was oozing blood down my wrist. “Oh. Shit.” I quickly yanked my shirtsleeve back down and took a half-step back, anxious. Cassidy rolled his eyes and kept digging.</p><p>“Relax, I’ve no interest in eatin’ ye. You don’t even smell good, anyhow.”</p><p>Unsure if I should be insulted, I picked up my shovel to keep digging.</p><p>“Oy!” Cassidy’s exclamation made me jump. “What d’yeh think you’re doin?!”</p><p>I blinked. “Uh. Helping?”</p><p>“Not in your condition you’re not! You—” He snatched the shovel from my grasp, “—are goin’ to sit right here—” He grabbed my good arm and pushed me back against the case so that my knees buckled and I sat with a thump, “—'n rest. It’s bad enough I dragged you into my mess ‘n you got hurt, you’re not goin’ t’ go bleedin’ out on me cleanin’ it up!”</p><p>I was torn between indignance and relief. I decided to embrace relief and crossed my legs, settling in. Despite being very weird and a constant annoyance, Cassidy was nice to look at. His back gleamed with a thin sheen of sweat in the moonlight and the digging was making his muscles bulge under his skin. At his waist, a strip of grey boxers peaked out from under his khakis.  After a while, he straightened to stretch and caught me watching. He smirked.</p><p>“Like whatcha see there, Juniper?” I startled and blushed. He wiped the sweat from his brow, leaving a streak of dirt behind, and hopped down into the hole to keep digging. I lay back across the case and stared up at the sky. We passed the time in companionable silence, the steady huff of his breath and hiss of the shovel against the earth lulling me into a stupor.<br/>~~~~~<br/>I must have fallen asleep, because I was suddenly jolted to consciousness by a bony finger poking me in the shoulder. “Ye best get off there, unless ye want to be buried with ‘em.”</p><p>Cassidy was standing very close. I could smell his sweat on the night air, sharp and acrid but somehow tempting all the same. His curls were a mess of tight corkscrews, damp with the exertion of the evening. I licked my lips and swallowed, a little overwhelmed.</p><p>“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” I hopped down from the case and watched as Cassidy shoved it into the hole with a gigantic heave. I picked up the other shovel and helped Cassidy to fill the hole in—faster work than digging it out. I was relieved when we finally finished stomping down the earth and headed back toward the church with our shovels over our shoulders.</p><p>We dropped the shovels by the church door and then Cassidy surprised me by walking me back to the van. I hesitated, not sure if our tentative truce was ready for my request. “I need a favor, Cassidy.”</p><p>“Oh aye? Does it have t’do with the way you were oglin’ me tonight?” His grin was devilish. I rolled my eyes.</p><p>“Tomorrow is the full moon. Like I said, it’s safe…usually…but I’d feel a lot more comfortable locked up with someone unkillable than in a house full of kids, you know?”</p><p>“Ah, so it’s spendin’ the night that ye’re after.” He waggled his brows and leered at me. His smile faded as I glared up at him. “’Course y’can. Can’t have you terrorizing the townspeople n that, can we?”</p><p>“Thanks, Cassidy.” I climbed into the van.</p><p>“You’re welcome, Juniper.” There it was. That musical intonation. I tried to squash the thrill that lit in my stomach.</p><p>“Hey, when we first met you said Juniper suits me. What does that mean?”</p><p>His eyes shone with amusement. “Ah. Because Juniper is short ‘n prickly, y’see.”</p><p>I scowled as I slammed the van door and through the shift to reverse. As I tore down the driveway, I could still see Cassidy laughing in the rear-view mirror.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading! Feedback is always appreciated &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cassidy's adventures in dogsitting.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As soon as Jesse’s truck rolled to a stop, I hopped out. Emily had needed the van that night, but Jesse was game to give me a ride. I was grateful—it meant I could avoid Emily’s smug smiles. The nice thing about Jesse was that he didn’t seem to care whether or not I was sleeping with Cassidy, or anyone for that matter. I thanked him for the ride and jogged up the stairs to the attic, a bulging plastic bag bouncing against my hip. The sun was sinking and I wanted to have ample time to prepare.</p><p>Cassidy was still asleep when I passed through the open attic door, stretched out on his back in nothing but a pair of boxers, his ankles crossed and hanging off the end of the mattress. An empty wine bottle rested in the crook of his elbow, and four more were neatly lined up along the bed. I lowered my eyes, embarrassed, and knocked lightly on the nearest rafter. When I looked up again he was watching me, but hadn’t moved to cover himself.</p><p>“Well hello there, Juniper! To what do I owe the pleasure?”</p><p>My face fell. He’d forgotten. “You um…said I could be here? The full moon?” I gestured vaguely skyward, feeling like an idiot. He sat up abruptly, swinging his feet to the floor, then gave a little groan and pinched the bridge of his nose.</p><p>“Right, right! I been t’inkin’ about that now, an’ what I was t’inkin’ was that we could do a little tit for tat. Now you mentioned that for these, uh, transformations, you use trazodone?” His face reminded me of a kid who was eagerly anticipating ice cream. It took me long moments to put together his request.</p><p>“No! I mean I do, I do take it, but I take it because I <em>need</em> it, or I could hurt someone!” I clutched my bag closer to my body.</p><p>“Now now, I don’t mean to clean you out! I’m not a monster!” He chuckled at his own joke. “It’s just that it’s been awful hard for a man to find drugs around here, ‘n I’m startin’ t’get a bit twitchy. I was just t’inkin’ maybe half. And I’ll replace what I take, Scout’s honor.” He held up his hand in the three-fingered scout salute, his face gravely serious but his eyes sparkling with amusement.</p><p>I hated the idea, but the moon was coming, and my options were limited. I begrudgingly dug the pill bottle out of my bag. Cassidy beamed and slid over on the bed, patting the spot next to him when I ignored his none too subtle sign. With a sigh I gingerly joined him on the mattress.</p><p>“I have…” I slid the pills into my palm and did a quick count. “Forty pills.” I counted out twenty of them and spilled them into his palm. “Do you have a baggie for them anywhere or—” I stopped short, as he’d swallowed the entire fistful dry. He made a face, sticking his tongue out.</p><p>“Nasty tastin’ things,” he said.</p><p>I was still staring, dumbfounded. “Cassidy, that was six <em>thousand</em> milligrams of trazadone.” I was beginning to feel I’d made a mistake entrusting him with my safety and the safety of Annville.</p><p>He scoffed dismissively. “Vampire drug tolerance, lass. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”</p><p>I tried to shake off my astonishment. “Right.” I took my own dose of seven tablets , and put the pill bottle back in my bag. “I <em>need</em> those replaced sometime in the next three months, alright?” I stared at him sternly, trying to will him to take me seriously.</p><p>He didn’t seem to catch the message. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good fer it.”</p><p>I tried to set aside my misgivings and moved to the corner of the attic furthest from the stairs. I laid out my bag of supplies between myself and the door—a cow’s hoof stuffed with peanut butter, a cow femur I’d picked up from the meat packing plant, already cracked open to reveal the marrow, and a (mostly) frozen extra-large Kong filled with meat-flavored baby food. I could feel Cassidy’s eyes on me, and my cheeks burned.</p><p>“I know it’s stupid, but it works, alright?” I moved back to my far corner and sat cross-legged.</p><p>“No, no, I admire t’ingenuity. Whatever gets y’through.” He seemed genuine, and I was able to relax a bit.</p><p>I took a deep breath. “The full moon shift…it’s harder. It’s slower, because I’m not inviting it on, and it hurts more.” I paused. “Did you tell Jesse anything?” As much as I tried to muffle myself, there would be noise.</p><p>Cassidy smirked. “I tol’ him you were spendin’ the night, ‘n it would probably get loud.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “T’ink he’s plannin’ to be elsewhere.”</p><p>“C<em>assidy</em>!” I was scandalized and furious, my face flaming.</p><p>“Listen, it keeps yer secret safe <em>and</em> Jesse is safely away in case t’ings go south. Where’s the problem?”</p><p>I thunked back against the wall, scowling. He was right, and it was a clever plan, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.</p><p>My cheeks colored as I remembered a detail I hadn’t thought about. “Um…usually…to save clothes…I do this naked?” I was really short on clothes, but was unsure of whether I was ready to disrobe in front of Cassidy.</p><p>He gestured at his own mostly-bare body. “Obviously I’m not th’ modest type, ‘n I saw you naked already.” When I didn’t move to get undressed, he rolled his eyes and tossed me a blanket. I got undressed under the blanket and waited, trying to be calm. The anticipation of pain, the fear of harming someone, made that difficult.</p><p>After several minutes of silence, a full-body tremor wracked my body. I pulled the last item out of my bag—a thick leather belt, frayed in places and studded with tooth-marks. “You should go.” I gasped as the first of the pain hit, shooting pains that fired up and down my arms and legs.</p><p>“An’ miss the show? I’ve seen a lot o’ t’ings, but I’ve never seen this!” He was leaning forward on the bed, his face eager.</p><p>“You saw it—” I ground out, “Two days ago!” I doubled over as my muscled cramped.</p><p>“I wasn’t able to properly pay attention then!” He clearly would not be swayed.</p><p>I growled, the sound reverberating out of suddenly larger lungs. There was no more time to argue with him. I stuffed the belt in my mouth and bit down hard to stifle the worst of the screams.</p><p>My last memory before I lost myself to the wolf was of Cassidy’s concerned face peering down at me from far, far too close.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Angels</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cassidy and Juniper have a post-full-moon breakfast date.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I was awake. I was me. Where was I?</p><p>My brow furrowed as I tried to make sense of my memories without opening my eyes. My cheek was resting against a grainy but smooth surface. I was naked, but covered in light cloth. A blanket? Wherever I was, it was quiet. I could hear a distant current of male voices, but other than that the only noise was the occasional caw of a bird. I inhaled deeply and recognized the tang of sweat and the sour smell of cheap wine. I couldn’t make the pieces fit together. I opened my eyes.</p><p>After a moment I recognized the attic of All Saints Congregational. The events of the evening prior, pre-phasing, trickled back a bit at a time like melted snow off a rooftop. I suddenly remembered Cassidy insisting on staying through the transformation, even as I’d warned him away. The supplies I’d left out were all gnawed to pieces, and there were deep claw marks in the closed door and its frame, but Cassidy was nowhere to be seen.</p><p>I stumbled to my feet, panicking. “Cass?!” Surely if something had happened there would be some evidence—blood, something—surely I hadn’t…but where was he? “CASSIDY!”</p><p>There were feet pounding up the stairs, and then the door opened to reveal Cassidy, his face hectic with excitement. My legs turned to mush and I dropped to the ground, weak with relief.</p><p>“Ah, there you are! I was wonderin’ when you’d wake. What’re you doin’, screamin’ to wake the dead like that?”</p><p>My voice was muffled, as I’d pressed my face into my hands. “I thought I…<em>got</em> you.” My heart was pounding and my muscles twitched and spasmed with surplus adrenaline from my panic.</p><p>“I <em>told</em> you, y’can’t kill me. I am ungettable. Ye don’t need t’ worry about me.” He plucked my clothes off the floor, carefully avoiding the shaft of sunlight illuminating the attic dust motes, and threw them to me. “But ye <em>do</em> need to get dressed. I’m takin’ you t’ breakfast, ‘n we’re going to have a talk.” <br/>~~~~~<br/>Cassidy was uncharacteristically tight-lipped about what it was we had to talk about. He deflected my questions on the drive to Denny’s and was silent as he removed his massive conical hat, poncho, and winter gloves and piled them tidily on the booth seat next to him. It wasn’t until after we’d ordered two Lumberjack Slams and the waitress left to place our orders that he leaned across the table conspirationally.</p><p>“<em>Angels</em>,” he hissed with great drama. He then leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, clearly expecting a grand reaction.</p><p>I took a small sip of my steaming coffee and mulled over what he’d said, nodding perceptively. “I see.” I did not see. After a moment Cassidy seemed to realize I was poking fun at him and huffed.</p><p>“Th’ <em>guys</em>, the guys from the church the other night!”</p><p>“Right, the vampire hunters…” I sipped more coffee. It was scalding, but I was clearly not awake enough to follow Cassidy’s erratic train of thought.</p><p>“Right, them! But they’re not vampire hunters at all! They weren’t after me, they were after <em>Jesse</em>.” He leaned forward again, his long hands tented on the cheap Formica. “’N they’re <em>angels</em>.”</p><p>“Like…the kind from heaven angels?” I was beginning to suspect that no amount of caffeine would bring me to Cassidy’s level of…consciousness.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>, the pearly gates ‘n halos kind! They told me—”</p><p>“They <em>told you</em>? Cassidy, we—” I suddenly remembered we were in public, and dropped my voice to a hiss. “We killed them!”</p><p>“They came back! It’s an angel t’ing, they said, they c’n…I dunno, clone themselves or somethin’!” He looked exasperated with the interruption. “So anyway, they said they’ve come for Jesse’s pow’r—”</p><p>“Jesse’s what, now?” Cassidy began to answer, but just then our waitress returned with our plates and I kicked him hard under the table to shut him up. I watched her back as she retreated to another table, then nodded at him to continue. He stuffed a gigantic bite of hash browns into his mouth before he did, rendering his speech even less comprehensible than usual.</p><p>“Jesse’s got a pow’r! He c’n make ye do whatever he wants just by sayin’ it! He made me fly!”</p><p>I choked on a bite of pancake. “Made you <em>fly</em>?”</p><p>“Well, made me try, anyways. Mashed my face up pretty good.” He grinned ruefully and tore a bite out of his toast. “Anyway, these guys, the angels, they said they need the power back from Jesse ‘n that they were gonna have it one way or t’other. Said t’ings might get rough.”</p><p>My lip lifted in a snarl at the idea of a threat. I hadn’t realized how close I’d grown to my Annville friends, but it turned out they were pack now. “Let them.”</p><p>The corner of Cassidy’s mouth lifted at my reaction. “Hm, right, that’s what I t’ought. But <em>then</em> I t’ought, I could buy Jesse some time if I sort of inserted meself into the middle of ‘em.”</p><p>“Meaning?”</p><p>“Meaning I told ‘em to leave Jesse to me ‘n I’d bring him to ‘em. Figured it’d give me ‘n Jesse time to hit the road and get some distance, y’know?”</p><p>I drooped. “You’re gonna leave? Both of you?”</p><p>“Well, that’s what I t’ought, but Jesse, he wouldn’ listen to me! So now, these guys, they’re expectin’ me at th’ Sundowner wit’ Jesse, ‘n I don’t know what they’ll do when I don’t show!”</p><p>Finally all of the pieces were in place to form a semi-coherent narrative. I ticked the points off on my fingers. “Okay, so. The men we murdered are angels. Jesse has a superpower. Angels want the superpower.”</p><p>“<em>Yes!</em>” Cassidy half shouted, prompting the diner patrons to stare.</p><p>I pondered this as I finished my eggs. “So…why can’t you just tell them you need more time? Stall?”</p><p>This, astoundingly, had not occurred to him. “Mm, could do, could do…But what about Jesse? Somethin’ could happen. The angels might have reinforcements. More clones.”</p><p>“I’ll stay with Jesse. You go meet the angels.” Cassidy nodded, satisfied, and we finished our breakfast in companionable silence. After my first meal I ordered another side each of pancakes and hash browns. When I finally felt full I leaned back in the seat, my eyelids drooping. “Thanks for breakfast, Cassidy.”</p><p>Cassidy blinked. “Oh no, nono. I just said I was bringin’ ye <em>to </em>breakfast. Didn’t say not’in’ about payin’.” He pulled <em>my</em> wallet from his pocket and waved it between his fingers.</p><p>I lunged across the table and snatched it from his hands. He laughed at my scowl.</p><p>“You’re a bastard, Cassidy.” I yanked two twenties out of my wallet and threw them on the table before stalking out of the restaurant.<br/>~~~~<br/>I hopped out of the van at All Saints and watched as the church van roared away, then headed inside to find Jesse. He was sitting in the front row with his head bowed, and I joined him quietly. In the silent church, with dust motes swirling in the sunbeams, it wasn’t so hard to believe that the angels, Heaven, and Hell were all real.</p><p>The <em>click</em> of a lighter next to me informed me that Jesse had finished his contemplation.</p><p>“You have a good night?” He was wearing a small smirk, and I groaned internally. I’d forgotten all about Cassidy’s cover story.</p><p>Best to stick with it. “Uh, yeah it was…wild. Fun.” My nose wrinkled.</p><p>Luckily, Jesse didn’t seem too interested in details. I wondered if I was meant to know anything about his mysterious power, or whether he was meant to know I knew.</p><p>“Anything new?” I prodded.</p><p>Jesse took a deep pull on his cigarette. “Nothin’ much. Emily’s picking up a TV to raffle at the church. Get some new faces in the seats.”</p><p>Okay. So I definitely wasn’t supposed to know, and he wasn’t going to share. “A TV! Good thinkin’, Preach.” I leaned back and crossed my ankles. “Does anything need doing around here? I want to help.”</p><p>“Ohh, Juniper. You should know better than to ask. Sanctuary needs sweepin’ and windows need de-cobwebbin’, if you’re offering.” He dropped his cigarette, half smoked, and ground it out with the toe of his boot.</p><p>“<em>Excuse </em>me? When you just asked me to sweep?” Jesse had the good grace to smile bashfully and pick up the butt. He stood and stretched lazily.</p><p>“I’ll be back in a few hours. I have a meetin’ with Odin Quincannon. You need anything from town?”</p><p>“Nah, I’m alright. Thanks.” I pulled the broom and a stepladder out from the supply closet. Maybe as long as I was using the ladder I’d try scrubbing the bloodstain from above the alter. It had gone miraculously unquestioned so far, but I felt like I was pressing my luck leaving it there.</p><p>Jesse’s truck revved and the sound of the engine slowly faded as he trundled down the driveway. Once he was gone, I hauled the enormous church CD player into the sanctum and flipped back and forth between the radio station. The options were bluesy, redneck rock or old country about dogs dying and wives leaving. I chose the former and got to work.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Tulip</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper makes a new friend in Annville.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Are you <em>sure</em> you don’t wanna come today?” Emily was trying to cajole me again. “Whole town’s gonna be there…”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s exactly why I don’t wanna go.” I made a face. “That church, in the heat, with all of Annville inside? Hard pass. Besides, I can get some things done around here.” Now that I wasn’t working, I was trying to help out as much as I could with maintaining the household.</p><p>Emily shrugged. “Suit yourself.” I sipped my coffee and watched her corral Tommy, Elliot, and Alice into their church clothes and out the door.</p><p>I poured myself another mug of coffee and then sweetened it beyond recognition. I sipped it sitting cross-legged in the patch of sunlight that spilled in through the living room window, savoring the quiet for a few minutes before I attacked the day.</p><p>I attacked the laundry first, getting my least favorite out of the way. Laundry in theory I didn’t mind, but in a household with three kids and a waitress parent it was impossible to predict the sorts of textures you’d find in a dirty laundry basket. I loaded the clothes in as fast as I could while touching as few items as possible and started a hot cycle.</p><p>Next on my mental checklist was cooking. Emily seemed to hate cooking on top of rarely having time for it, which made us a complementary team. I turned on the radio—grungy blues rock again—and dug out the largest pot in Emily’s kitchen. Twitching my hips with the beat of the music, I gathered my ingredients and got started.</p><p>~~~~<br/>By the time Emily and the kids returned home, I was scooping portions of spicy three-bean chili into containers to freeze. I’d been feeling extra domestic, so the table was set with small bowls of cheese, sour cream, and oyster crackers and a large serving bowl of the chili sat on a cheery blue potholder in the middle of the table. Emily smiled gratefully as we sat down to eat.</p><p>“So, how was service?” I asked, ladling out bowls of chili.</p><p>Emily dug in immediately. “It was real inspiring. Jesse’s really coming into his own.” She sprinkled some cheese on her chili and added a big dollop of sour cream. “You know he even got Odin Quincannon of all people to commit to serving God?” Based on her tone and her smile, this was meant to be a big deal.</p><p>I shrugged helplessly. “You know I have no idea who that is, right?”</p><p>~~~~</p><p>In the shower a couple of days later, a gentle tugging sensation caught my attention as I washed up. I blinked the water out of my eyes and stretched my arm out in front of me. A bit of the scab had peeled back, revealing tender pink skin underneath. I scrubbed at what remained gently, smiling as more new skin was exposed.</p><p>A sudden thunderous shout made me jump and skid in the shower.</p><p>“<em>STAY! AWAY! FROM MY BOYFRIEND!</em>” Something shattered loudly.</p><p>I slammed the tap off and threw on the first clothes my hands touched without bothering to dry. By the time I got downstairs—leaving wet footprints all the way—things seemed to have settled. The mystery woman who demanded to get baptized at the church was sitting at the table. Emily was digging around in the utility drawer in the kitchen. After a moment she placed a tube of super glue in front of the mystery woman.</p><p>“Uh…hi.” I shivered as beads of water rolled down my back. I glanced at Emily furtively, but she seemed as hapless as I was.</p><p>The woman beamed up at me, a perfectly friendly smile that managed to have a sharp and somehow predatory air. “Well hi there! Tulip O’Hare.” She thrust a hand forward.</p><p>I joined them in the kitchen and shook it, suddenly very aware of my sodden appearance. “Juniper Guidry. Pleased to meet you.” I smiled tentatively, not entirely sure if that was the response the situation called for. I poured myself a coffee, then suddenly remembered my manners and held up the coffee pot. “Would you like some?”</p><p>Emily, folding laundry, snapped a towel aggressively. Her eyes were fixed on the opposite wall and her face stiff. So, not a social call.</p><p>Tulip was either oblivious or didn’t care. “Sounds great!” I filled a cheery blue mug for her and set it next to her repair project, along with the cream and sugar. I noticed that Tulip took her coffee the same way I did: a massive spoonful of sugar and then creamer until it looked more like milk than coffee.</p><p>I turned my attention to Emily. “Is everything okay? I heard a…noise.”</p><p>Emily’s voice was tight with restrained aggravation. “Oh, fine. Tulip just wanted to remind everyone that Jesse Custer is her property.”</p><p>Tulip rolled her eyes. “Well I wouldn’t have to <em>remind you</em> if you weren’t makin’ eyes at other peoples boyfriends all the time!”</p><p>Emily clamped her mouth shut with an audible click and I stared intently into my coffee cup.</p><p><em>Very much</em> not a social call.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>After a while, the two began to thaw. It didn’t seem Tulip could stay frosty toward anyone who complimented her car—which even I could see was gorgeous. She had too many stories to keep penned behind her lips, and she kept Emily and I fascinated while we folded church programs. She and Jesse had seen everywhere from Texas to California, before he decided to come back to Annville. As she spoke, I found myself longing to get back on the road and just <em>go.</em> I desperately wanted the chance to talk to her at a time when she didn’t have to so heavily edit her stories like she did for Emily.</p><p>I seized the opportunity when Tulip offered to run Emily’s errands so that Emily could stay home with Alice, nearly leaping out of my chair.</p><p>“I can help!” Both Tulip and Emily looked bemused at my enthusiasm.</p><p>“Are you sure?” Emily asked. She seemed not to understand why I’d want to tag along. My face warmed.</p><p>“<em>Please</em>, I know how picky you are about your paper plates. And I don’t have anything else to do today anyway.” I turned to Tulip. “If that’s okay, I mean?”</p><p>Tulip gave an exaggerated shrug. “Sure, whatever. Plenty of room. No food or drinks in the car though.”</p><p>I nodded. “Great. I’ll grab the wine from downstairs.”</p><p>~~~<br/>Contrary to what I’d hoped, the car ride was stony silent. I picked at my thumb nail and tried to figure out how to get a conversation going.</p><p>“I can <em>run errands</em>, you know! You think I’m too stupid to read a grocery list?” Tulip’s outburst made me jump in my seat, and my lips parted in surprise.</p><p>“I…know that…” I couldn’t figure out where she got the idea I thought she was stupid. “I honestly just wanted to hear some of your stories that weren’t edited for church mouse ears, you know?” I attempted a smile tentatively.</p><p>She appeared to relax immediately. “OH! Well you shoulda said so!”</p><p>Tulip immediately launched into a rambling tale about a con she and Jesse pulled all across the southwest that involved very publicly going into fake anaphylaxis and buying silence from shocked and hapless restaurant owners. As we began to shop, she went into another story about tearfully distracting cops while Jesse siphoned gas from their cars so they could make a getaway. Her animated demeanor became muted the more she talked about Jesse, until finally she trailed off and shopped silently. My heart ached for her.</p><p>I poked her gently in the shoulder. “I know what you need.”</p><p>She raised an eyebrow. “Drinks? Meaningless sex?”</p><p>I laughed. “No! Come on.” I grabbed her hand and dragged her to the cosmetics aisle. I found their surprisingly large selection of brightly colored hair dye and gestured grandly. “Choose!”</p><p>Tulip seemed unconvinced. “You serious?”</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>! It’ll be fun.” I grabbed a bleach kit, scanning the back to make sure it would be enough for both of us. Then, after approximately two seconds of consideration, I snagged an electric blue. Tulip was more selective, but after scanning the shelf for the entire duration of a feel-good one-hit-wonder, she chose the most vibrant pink they had to offer.</p><p>“<em>Perfect. </em>We can use the utility sink at the church.” I was excited for girl-time that didn’t have to be censored for puritanical ears or revolve around being quiet enough not to wake kids. Before we cashed out I made a second trip to the cosmetics aisle for glittering nail polish that matched the dyes and a couple of face masks too.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Mistakes Were Made</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cassidy and Juniper get a drink. Among other things.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>Chapter 11: Mistakes Were Made<br/>
</strong>Jesse was outside setting up chairs in rows when Tulip and I arrived. I knew there were two sides of every story, but after seeing how bad Tulip was hurting there was a part of me that wanted to bull through his tidy aisles and send the chairs careening everywhere.</p><p>Tulip grabbed the case of communion wine and bag of plates and napkins while I snatched the hair dye. “Meet you in the laundry room?” I asked. She nodded and headed around to the back door while I passed Jesse wordlessly to enter the front.</p><p>I cocked my head as I entered the cozy living area behind the sanctuary. The bathroom door was open, but the shower was running and based on the lilting voice emanating from the stall, Cassidy was the one using it.</p><p>“<em>This is how we do it down in Puerto Rico/I just wanna hear you screaming, ‘Ay Bendito!’ I can move forever cuando este contigoooo…</em>”</p><p>I clapped my hands over my mouth but too late; a delighted giggle had escaped. This singing cut off abruptly, followed by the water. I considered retreating, but this was too juicy not to stay and enjoy. A moment later Cassidy appeared in the doorway. He hadn’t bothered to dry off, just thrown a towel around his waist, and his sopping curls fell over his forehead. He squinted against the water dripping into his eyes, then beamed when he recognized me. I found myself disappointed and annoyed by his apparent lack of embarrassmant.</p><p>“Ah! Juniper! Been waitin’ for you t’ show your face! I have somet’in’ for you.” He held up a finger in the universal gesture for ‘stay’ and jogged up the stairs, leaving tiny puddles in his wake.</p><p>I leaned against the kitchen counter, wondering what Cassidy could possibly have procured for me. He returned in minutes, fully dressed but hair still dripping, and triumphantly thrust a pill bottle toward me.</p><p>“Valium!” he said by way of explanation.</p><p>I blinked. “Um…thank you…but why?”</p><p>“T’ replace the traz’ y’gave me t’other night.” He spoke slowly, clearly thinking I must be a bit thick.</p><p>Despite my reliance on sedatives, I wasn’t very knowledgeable about them. “Do they…work the same?”</p><p>“No, that’s th’ t’ing! They’re better. Stronger. Th’ dose for dogs—meanin’ no offense, I jus’ couldn’t find one for wolves—is a migg per kigg, right, n’ these are ten miggs each, I put yer wolfy self at about sixty kiggs so you take six n’ you’ll sleep through the night like a baby.” He looked very proud. When he saw how perplexed I was he thrust a hand deep into his pocket and returned with a much-abused post-it note. “I wrote it down fer ye.”</p><p>I took the note and scanned it. “Are you sure this is right?” I was beginning to like Cassidy, but wasn’t sure if I trusted him enough to be writing me prescriptions yet.</p><p>He looked highly offended. “Juniper, I have been dosin’ out drugs since you were in nappies—b’fore that, even! If I can’t work out a proper dose for a mate, what am I doin’ wit’ my life?”</p><p>I grinned at his indignance and pocketed the bottle of blue pills and the sticky note. “Thank you, Cassidy. I really appreciate it.”</p><p>This, more than being caught in an impromptu shower concert, seemed to embarrass him. “’T was no trouble at all. You let me know when you need more of ‘em.”</p><p>With that he clapped me on the shoulder and was gone.</p><p>~~~<br/>
We had to whine and wheedle a bit to get Jesse to permit us to dye our hair in his utility sink. In the end he relented, though he plainly thought we were crazy. Tulip seemed in a better mood—she confided in me that she’d found a mini-putt club in the closet that she was <em>sure</em> was from a date she and Jesse had been on years before. Although, her idea of a date seemed somewhat different from mine, because the evening had ended with Jesse using the club to kneecap a guy who’d been harassing her.</p><p>Jesse poked his head in once more, when we were halfway through a bottle of sour wine. Our appearance gave him pause: We hadn’t thought to buy shower caps, so instead we’d tied plastic bags into bonnets while the dye set. We’d just applied the facemasks so our faces were a garish grey. He screwed his courage and plowed on.</p><p>“Have y’all—” He cut himself off, frowning. “Is that communion wine?”</p><p>“<em>This</em>,” said Tulip, “Is our delivery fee.” She splashed more wine into her clear plastic cup, aggressively unrepentant. Jesse raised his eyes heavenward, as if searching for strength. I snorted and the wine burned in my nose.</p><p>“Have y’all seen Cassidy?” he ground out.</p><p>“Nope.” Tulip’s answer was immediate. I took my time, brow furrowed.</p><p>“I saw him for a minute when we got here. But not since. Why?”</p><p>Jesse looked puzzled. “Huh.” He flapped a hand in our direction dismissively. “Never mind. Y’all go on.”</p><p>“We will,” Tulip replied. She plucked the bottle of pink nail polish off the table and waved it at him. “You let us know if you wanna join.”</p><p>We giggled as he stalked away.<br/>
~~~<br/>
I was once again admiring my hair in Emily’s bathroom mirror. She’d insisted that I get my own pillowcases rather than continuing to use hers, in case of the dye leeching, but it was worth it. I loved the new look. I just hoped that the blue blotches on my ears and neck would fade quickly.</p><p>“JuniPER! Someone here for you!”</p><p>I checked the time on my phone. It was nearing eleven, and I had no idea who could be coming by, or why.</p><p>Cassidy was at the door with one arm propped high in the frame when I came downstairs. Emily looked from me to him and back with a smug, knowing smile and my face flamed.</p><p>“Uh…hi?” I wracked my brain trying to figure out what would bring Cassidy here at this hour. “Everything alright?”</p><p>He jerked his head in the direction of the massive church van, parked almost diagonally across the driveway. He’d come less than a foot from taking out the mailbox. “Let’s get a drink.”</p><p>I blinked. “Should I…change?” I was wearing track shorts and a tank top, and wasn’t sure what the occasion called for. Or what the occasion was.</p><p>Cassidy gave a quick shake of his head. “Nah.” Without waiting he turned on his heel and strode back toward the van. I scrambled to collect my wallet and tug on a pair of sneakers.</p><p>Emily waved cheerfully after Cassidy. “If he doesn’t bring you back by morning, I’m calling the FBI,” she muttered. I laughed, though I wasn’t sure she was joking.</p><p>“Thanks, Em. I can take care of myself.” Satisfied that I had everything I needed, I jogged after Cassidy.</p><p>“So, is everything okay?” I asked, hauling myself up into the van. It smelled strongly of burning…something, though I couldn’t tell what.</p><p>“Oh, yeah, everyt’in’s peachy. Just t’ought we could spend some time together.” He reached over and patted my thigh. The warmth of his hand surprised me, though I should have known by now that most of the media stereotypes were off the table.</p><p>“Oh! Okay. Sounds nice.” I smiled, feeling shy. To soothe my awkwardness, I gave my head the kind of shake that would toss my hair, if it had been long enough to toss. “You like it?”</p><p>He seemed to notice my hair for the first time, and grinned crookedly. “Now why’d you go ‘n do a thing like that?”</p><p>I shrugged, trying not to be too put out. “I was bored. And it was fun.”</p><p>“Ah, I’ve found myself in many a predicament ‘n used just that same excuse,” he admonished. “But I s’pose hair color isn’t too bad, s’far as boredom killers go.” He put the van in park as we pulled up to a barfront with garish neon lights reading ‘Frontier Bar’. A cartoon cowboy was being bucked off his tubby pony again and again as the lights flashed.</p><p>Cassidy led me inside and when I saw the clientele I closed the distance between us somewhat. Men in confederate uniforms or sporting biker vests made up the vast majority. The speakers blared old country—Johnny Cash or Willie Nelson. Cassidy strutted straight up to the bar and grabbed a stool, then patted the one next to him. I glared at him, sure he’d chosen the bar stools specifically because I’d have to hop and scramble up onto them—which I did, too stubborn to request somewhere else. When I’d settled myself he was pointedly not looking at me, but his crooked smile was obvious.</p><p>“Barkeep! Have ye found any whiskey that doesn’t taste like a bucket o’ horse piss?”</p><p>The burly bartender scowled and slammed a bottle of Ratwater down in front of him.</p><p>“No, no, ye misunderstood. Somethin’ that <em>doesn’t</em> taste like horse piss!” Cassidy grinned, and the bartender glared. “And a glass fer the lady, if you please.” He gestured grandly at me and the bartender slapped a smudged shot glass down in front of me and turned to his other patrons.</p><p>Cassidy poured me a shot and raised the bottle. “Cheers, then.” Without waiting, he began gulping from the bottle. I tried to throw down my shot like a regular drinker. The taste started me coughing immediately, and whiskey fizzed up my nose, setting off more coughing and spluttering. Cassidy continued to chug as he watched me struggle. When my breathing finally steadied, he lowered his bottle. “You know that’s pathetic, don’t ye?”</p><p>I glared at him. “I don’t drink very much!”</p><p>Cassidy smirked, and waved down the bartender, who made his way reluctantly over. “One hunch punch for th’ lady, thank you!” The bartender rolled his eyes and started mixing. I narrowed my eyes at Cassidy, suspicious, but when the bartender set an innocuous-looking pink drink with a soggy orange slice on the rim in front of me, my suspicions were allayed. I took a cautious sip; the drink was fruity, with a light fizz of carbonation and just the slightest alcoholic burn as it went down. I closed my eyes as I blissfully sipped the drink down. When I opened them again, Cassidy was watching me with a small smile.</p><p>“Can I have another one?” Before he’d answered, my eyes were wandering. I gasped delightedly. “They have a <em>jukebox</em>! Do you have change?” My eyes were back on Cassidy. He smiled indulgently and dug in his pocket, then handed me a quarter.</p><p>I hopped down from my barstool, stumbling a bit as I landed. Cassidy caught my arms securely and straightened me.</p><p>“Ye all right there?” he asked, peering down at me. I nodded, already starting across the bar to the jukebox. It seemed to take a great deal of concentration to get there, and the song selection knobs were challenging—not intuitive at all. After what felt like ages of trial and error I was able to manipulate them well enough to flip through the songs. Early in the alphabetical listings I found a track that made me grin maliciously. I selected it and made my cautious way back to Cassidy—the floor seemed to shift unpredictably under my feet. When I reached the bar, there was another punch hunch waiting for me. I took a delighted swig, then squealed as my song started. The powerful opening guitar riff sent a thrill through me.</p><p>Cassidy groaned loudly. “<em>True Blood</em>? Really?”</p><p>I pointed at him with both hands, crowing gleefully. “HAH! You like True Blood!”</p><p>“No, nono. I di’n’t say that. Knowin’ a t’ing doesn’t mean you like the t’ing!” He looked panicked, and I laughed.</p><p>I grabbed his hands, tugging. “Let’s <em>dance</em>!” Cassidy shook his head, and I pouted theatrically. “You drag me all the way out here in the middle of the night, and you won’t even dance with me?”</p><p>He sighed. “<em>Fine</em>. But I’ll warn ye now, I’m no good at it.” He took another long swig of the whiskey. I matched him, finishing my second crunch punch, and dragged him to a clear-ish area of the bar.</p><p>For all his protests, he seemed to be a fine dancer to me. He placed his hands on the ridges of my hips and yanked me close, making me gasp, and we gyrated in time to the music. His breath was sharp with the whiskey he’d been drinking, with an undercurrent of stale tobacco. I could tell that he’d put on some kind of cologne, and underneath I could smell that he’d been sweating. Rather than put me off, it drew me in closer. I began to press in closer, but he masterfully twirled me and then pulled me close again so that my back was flush with his stomach. He entwined his fingers with mine and ran them from my ribs to my hips as I ground against him the music. I pulled away so that I could turn to face him again. I laid my hands on his chest and craned my head back to look up at him. He was watching me, but his face was careful. I licked my lips involuntarily, imagining how they’d feel against his. I stretched up on my tiptoes to find out.</p><p>Just then the song picked up into a faster guitar solo, and Cassidy pulled away and launched us into some approximation of a square dance. I laughed as he whirled me around the bar, exhilarated.</p><p>When we’d circled the bar and come back to our stools he lifted me onto mine easily. I flopped over on the bar, giggling helplessly. He resumed his plugging at the bottle of Ratwater, finishing it. I watched him through heavy eyelids, feeling warmth wash over me.</p><p>“Take me home, Cassidy,” I murmured.</p><p>His brows furrowed. “Alright…is everything alright?” The concern in his tone made my heart swell.</p><p>“No, Cassidy,” I tried to put a sultry inflection into my tone. “<em>Take me home.</em>”</p><p>Realization crossed his face. “<em>Ah.</em>” He hesitated. “Are ye sure that’s what you want?”</p><p>I sat up slowly, working to hide how much effort it took to do so. I lowered my chin and peered up at him between my eyelashes. “Please.”</p><p>Cassidy looked conflicted for a moment, then nodded. He stood and threw a few bills onto the bar before offering me an arm. “Madam?” I took it and slid off of the stool, grateful for the support when I landed clumsily. I grasped his hand in both of mine as we left the bar together.<br/>
~~~<br/>
Reaching the attic unnoticed was a challenge at the best of times, but it seemed at least doubly hard tonight. I didn’t remember the living space being so full of furniture to trip over or top-heavy items to knock down. Finally, after I went sprawling over the leg of an armchair and was helpless on the floor giggling for an indeterminable amount of time, Cassidy resorted to grabbing me by the shoulders and steering me along in front of him, stiff-armed.</p><p>When we reached the attic I kicked the door closed and immediately threw myself at Cassidy, kissing him hard. He tasted so strongly of whiskey that he made my head swim, and without willing it my hands tangled themselves in his shirt front, yanking him closer. He bit at my lower lip, hard enough to draw a drop of blood, and I gasped as he licked it away with a soft growl. I parted his lips with my tongue and moaned as  his tongue invaded my mouth.</p><p>Cassidy broke the kiss, breathing hard, and rested his forehead against mine. “Are yeh sure yeh want this?”</p><p>I gave a small nod, moaning assent. I kissed him once more, gently, and backed a few steps away. Holding his eyes, I stripped off my shorts and panties, and then my tank top and bra. His eyes were dark with lust, and his erection tented the front of his pants.</p><p>I kept backing away until my knees struck the edge of his mattress and I sat down hard. I sprawled out luxuriously, fondling my breast with one hand while with the other I traced sweeping, loose patterns across my inner thighs and belly, only occasionally dipping between my folds. All the time I held Cassidy’s eyes. He licked his lips and I saw his throat bob as he swallowed. I abandoned my ministrations and held my arms out to him, beckoning.</p><p>“C’mere,” I whispered.</p><p>And he did.</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter of Revelations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cassidy helps Juniper recover from their night out.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Before I was fully conscious, I was aware that each beat of my heart was sending a bright lance of pain across my forehead. As I came more awake, consciousness became more unpleasant. My stomach churned uneasily and the bed beneath me seemed to sway. My mouth felt like it was full of sandpaper, and my eyes were dry and gritty.</p><p>As horrific as I felt, the memories that trickled in were worse. I couldn’t remember having ever been that drunk before. And in public. And I had tried to <em>have sex</em> with Cassidy. I groaned and covered my face with my hands.</p><p>“Ah! Ye’re awake!”</p><p>I opened my eyes and whipped my head around to look at Cassidy, who was lying on the floor under the window. The action was too much for my offended stomach, and my nausea peaked. I pitched over the side of the mattress, but luckily there was a shallow metal bowl placed at the head of the bed to catch my puke. When it felt safe, I laid back down and closed my eyes to try to stop the room from spinning.</p><p>“If ye can, you should keep pukin’. It sorts yeh out faster’n anythin’ else.” Slowly and mindfully, I turned my head in the direction of his voice before opening my eyes to scowl at him. He raised his hands in surrender. “Suit yerself. There’s a drink if you’re ready to rinse.” He nodded at the crate that served as a nightstand, where a bottle of blue Gatorade was sweating tantalizingly in the morning heat next to a bottle of Advil and a small plate of plain-looking crackers. Moving slowly, I cracked it open and poured a bit into my mouth. The first swig I used to rinse my mouth, then took a small swallow.</p><p>“Are those…communion wafers?” I rasped.</p><p>Cass grinned bashfully. “I couldn’ find any saltines, ‘n toast woulda gone soggy.”</p><p>I shrugged internally (an actual shrug felt like more coordination than I could manage), and began nibbling on one of the wafers. It was like eating crunchy paper, but in this instance that gave me hope it would stay down.</p><p>Cassidy had stood, and looked uncharacteristically anxious. He took a step toward me, as if to sit on the bed, then stopped. “I’m afraid I owe you an apology.”</p><p>I finished my wafer and laid back on the pillow, closing my eyes. “Is the apology for the attempted murder?” I expected him to laugh or mock my low tolerance, but he was silent. I cracked an eyelid and watched as he gingerly joined me on the bed.</p><p>“Las’ night, I took yeh out with th’ intention of…takin’ advantage of yeh.”</p><p>Both eyes were open now. “Intention of? You mean we didn’t…?” I could feel my face warming.</p><p>Cassidy shook his head quickly. “No! No. I couldn’.”</p><p>“Oh.” Against all logic, I felt hurt. “Did I do something wrong?”</p><p>He barked out a laugh. “I tell yeh I fully meant t’ assault yeh ‘n that’s what you’re worried about?”</p><p>I chewed this over. “I don’t know if it counts when…the person would consent while sober?” My cheeks were flaming now, and I moved on quickly. “Why…?” I wasn’t sure what I was asking.</p><p>“Yeh’re my friend? A good friend. ‘N I’m tryin’ to…not be quite so self destructive.” He flashed me a self deprecating grin, and I returned a tentative smile. “As fer wantin’ t’ take yeh out ‘n ravish yeh…” He sighed gustily. “I’m in love.”</p><p>I blinked, unsure of whether he was being difficult to follow or if my thumping head was just slowing me down. “Can you elaborate?”</p><p>“Th’ woman I love, she ‘n Jesse had somet’in’ between ‘em. ‘N I don’t t’ink he’d take to me romancin’ her.”</p><p>Understanding came on like a time lapse of an opening flower. “Tulip.”</p><p>He hesitated, then nodded, his body sagging. “I fell for her b’fore I knew.”</p><p>I wanted to throw my arms around him, but I wasn’t sure my stomach could stand sitting up, and I was naked under the sheet besides. I settled for squeezing his hand. “I’m sorry, Cassidy.”</p><p>He returned the squeeze, then pulled away. His mask of carelessness slid back into place with disturbing ease. “’Nough about my nonsense. Let’s get some eggs in you. Best hangover cure there is.”</p><p>My nose wrinkled at the thought of it. “Does it have to be eggs?”</p><p>“Juniper, I am a one hundred ‘n nineteen year old, booze guzzlin’, drug imbibin’ miscreant. If t’ere’s one t’ing I know, it’s how to nurse a hangover. Come along now.”</p><p>He threw my clothes at me, snatched up my puke bowl, and was off down the stairs, humming.</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Burn, Baby, Burn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper joins Jesse, Emily, Cass, and Tulip for dinner.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The following Sunday, it was Tulip, not Emily, who cajoled me into showing at church. She texted me Sunday morning to let me know that she’d be making dinner for Jesse, Emily, and me if I wanted to come. Emily seemed taken aback but pleased when I joined her and the kids at the door in my Sunday best—a strappy white sundress with vibrant sunflower print and matching white wedge sandals.</p><p>“I’ll…lend you a cardigan,” she said, eyeing my scandalously bare shoulders and collarbones.</p><p>We arrived early so that Emily could finish preparing for service, but there were already parishioners milling on the lawn. I straightened the folding chairs in rows under the large new loudspeaker and then went inside to distribute hymnals. Tulip was lounging on one of the pews, popping gum loudly, her vibrant pink hair a cloud around her head. I smiled warmly and joined her after I’d made sure every seat had a hymnal and a program.</p><p>“Hey! Anything I can do to help with dinner tonight?”</p><p>“Nah, I got it. Thanks for comin’,” she grinned at me.</p><p>I bumped her shoulder with my own. “Only for the free food. Have you seen Cassidy?”</p><p>“Cass?” She screwed up her face in thought. “Nah, I haven’t seen him today. I was thinkin’ we could rope him into a poker game, but it looks like we might have to actually sit through this thing.” She stuck her wad of gum to the underside of the pew and replaced it with a cigarette. She offered me the carton, but I shook my head, my nose wrinkling involuntarily. She shrugged—<em>suit yourself</em>—and lit up as parishioners began filing in. I suddenly realized I recognized the holy water font where they blessed themselves as the bowl Cassidy had provided me with the morning I woke up hungover in his attic. I sank down in my seat, mortified.</p><p>It was clear that Jesse held the parishioners in thrall, but I failed to see the appeal. I struggled not to doze off in the heat, lulled by the soft flapping of several hundred fanning programs. By the end, I’d resorted to thumb wrestling with Tulip (who cheated) to stay awake, earning the glares of good Christians seated nearby.</p><p>As soon as the service ended, Tulip popped up from her seat. “I’m goin’ to get some groceries. You wanna come with?”</p><p>I rose more slowly, stiff after so long in on the hard wooden seat. “I’m gonna help Emily tidy up, but I’ll see you after, okay?” Tulip nodded and flounced out, poodle skirt bobbing, and I got to work collecting abandoned crumpled programs and other bits of refuse.</p><p>~~~ <br/>By dinner time, I was beginning to wonder if Cassidy was avoiding me. I hadn’t heard from him since the bar debacle, but I hadn’t thought much about it until today. Though I knew I should be, I wasn’t mad at him, and I hoped he didn’t think I was. I wondered if he was embarrassed that I knew about Tulip, but brushed away the thought—he was hardly the bashful type.</p><p>I was relieved when he showed up for dinner (uninvited, based on the way Tulip eyed him) and smiled at me warmly. He was wearing a sadly shredded over-sized t-shirt that tented over his thin frame and a pair of baggy cargo pants. I snagged a pair of kitchen scissors off the counter and quickly snipped off a shred of the shirt that was hanging by his collar.</p><p>“That was gonna drive me crazy,” I said, grinning up at him. I was surprised at how glad I was to see him.</p><p>He frowned in mock indignation. “Now why’d yeh go ‘n do that? It added artistic flare, originality!” I laughed and tossed the bit of fabric in the trash, then helped Tulip set the table.</p><p>Dinner was spectacularly horrible. I liked Tulip very much, but I made a mental note not to let her cook for me again. Cassidy’s tactic to get through it was to cover his entire plate with an obscene amount of ketchup, and I followed suit, piling on condiments until they spilled off of my burger and salting my hash browns until I could no longer taste what Tulip identified as vanilla extract. Once my food was suitably edible, I tucked in and listened to Cassidy’s diatribe against ‘The Big Lebowski’. Jesse and Tulip ignored him, while Emily tried her best to engage with him. I waited until he’d finally wound down, then leaned forward with my chin resting in my palm.</p><p>“Sorry, I don’t really get it…what <em>exactly</em> don’t you like about it?” Tulip snorted with laughter next to me, and Cassidy was off again, ketchup splattering on the floor as his gestures grew more animated.</p><p>We all jumped at the sound of a cough. The sheriff was standing in the doorway, his hat in his hands.</p><p>“I hate to interrupt your supper, but I was hopin’…I’m lookin’ for Eugene.” Cassidy’s eyes were glued to Jesse. “I was hopin’ he’d run off to spend some time with you, like he sometimes does…but I reckon not. It’s the darndest thing.” He turned his attention to Jesse. “Have you seen him? Have you seen Eugene?”</p><p>We all jumped again as the fire alarm went off. Smoke was billowing from the oven. I froze in my seat, unsure of what to do. Reflexively, as if she had lots of practice, Tulip hopped up on a chair and began fanning the smoke toward the vent while Emily snatched a blazing cookie sheet out of the oven and Cassidy used a fire extinguisher from who-knows-where to douse the sheet and the inside of the oven.</p><p>Emily turned to Tulip, exasperated. “Did you uh…Did you put vanilla extract <em>on</em> the baking sheet?”</p><p>“…No,” said Tulip, still fanning. Just then the smoke hit me and I doubled over, coughing. Emily took a half step toward me, but I waved her off.</p><p>“I’m okay…I just need some air.” I ducked into the large where bible study was held and closed the glass doors behind me.</p><p>It was several minutes before I could breathe properly again. When I returned to the kitchenette, Jesse, the sheriff, and Cassidy had gone. Tulip and Emily were sitting silently at the table, and I joined them, picking at my nails uneasily.</p><p>Jesse returned after a few minutes and slammed the fire extinguisher down where Cassidy had been sitting. Cassidy did not. I eyed the fire extinguisher and icy dread filled my stomach. I wanted to ask where Cassidy was, but fear of the answer wired my mouth shut.</p><p>Emily asked for me, her eyes on the fire extinguisher. “Where’d Cassidy go?”</p><p>No answer.</p><p>“Jesse?” Tulip tried. “Where’s Cassidy?” Silence. I began to feel nauseous. Gooseflesh rose along my arms and my nails bit into my palms as I clenched my fists. “<em>Jesse</em>!”</p><p>He finally looked up, his face a furious mask. “You know? What he is?” Tulip didn’t answer, but he found his answer in her face. “Right. You did.” He turned on Emily. “You know?”</p><p>“I don’t…know anything…?” Emily was beginning to look frightened.</p><p>I stood abruptly, my knees knocking my chair skittering, and bolted from the table. I heard someone following, but didn’t look back. The sun blinded me as I burst through the doors, and it took me a moment to find him.</p><p>I only knew it was Cassidy because who else could it be? Tulip gasped as she skidded to a stop beside me, and I reached for her hand blindly and squeezed hard, needing something physical to cling to. He lay prone on the ground in the shade of the church, his face turned toward me. His features were gone, save his lashless, lidless eyes that stared directly into mine and two deep holes where his nose had been. His lipless mouth was stretched into an ‘O’, and I could hear his rattling gasps from where I stood. His shirt was mostly gone, but here and there bits seemed to be melted into his flesh. His skin was charred black, saved where it had cracked in deep fissures that revealed raw red flesh beneath. I had no idea how he could be alive, never mind conscious, but when his eyes met mine two of his fingertips reached toward me, trembling with the effort. I noted with revulsion that the tips had burned away, revealing bone.</p><p>Tulip pulled away and took a few stilted steps toward Cassidy. Her hands were outstretched, longing to help him, though she couldn’t have any idea how.</p><p>I turned slowly to squint back into the dim church and my eyes met Jesse’s. He was sitting calmly at the table and staring back at me, his hands neatly folded. The fire extinguisher still stood at Cassidy’s seat. Emily had gone.</p><p>Rage roared through me, replacing horror, and without intention I shifted, the massive wolf exploding from my body. Scraps of my sundress fluttered to the ground around me as I took stalked forward, stiff-legged. I didn’t try to hold back the wolf’s instincts, because in this moment our wants were the same. I hurtled through the church toward him, my body low to the ground and my lips stretched back from my teeth. Jesse’s eyes widened, and he half rose from his seat. There was nowhere to go. A long snarl tore from my throat, and I gathered my paws beneath me to leap across the table at his throat.</p><p>“<strong><em>Stop!</em></strong><em>"</em></p><p>The word reverberated through my body, and it was as though I’d hit a wall. My momentum carried me skidding into the table, sending plates and cutlery flying. My paws were cemented to the floor. I craned my head forward, snarling and snapping wildly. Foam flew through the air, flecking the table cloth. Jesse stood just inches out of reach of my jaws, his hands in his pockets in an artfully relaxed pose, and my growls rose to a frenzied roar.</p><p>Infuriatingly, Jesse was beginning to look amused. “<strong><em>Change back.</em></strong>”</p><p>My snarls shifted to whimpers that shifted to screams as the change was forced on me. The cracking of bones and tearing of muscle seemed to go on forever as the enraged wolf was stuffed back inside my small human frame.</p><p>I was left trembling and sweating, lying naked on the rough wood floor. “<em>Fuck you</em>, Jesse Custer,” I spat through chattering teeth.</p><p>“<strong><em>Get out</em></strong>.” Against my will my trembling, aching legs carried me through the sanctuary and out into the sunshine.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Hungry</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper and Tulip try to help Cassidy, who isn't quite feeling like himself.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tulip had found a tarp on the back of her car and had laid it out next to Cassidy. She was struggling to shift him onto it. Each time she tried, he would cry out and she would pull back as if she were the one burned. She glared up at me, seeming to take in and dismiss my nakedness at a glance.</p><p>“<em>Help me!</em>” Her voice was raw with desperation. I joined her at Cassidy’s side. To my horror, he was still conscious.</p><p>“Cassidy?” His eyes flicked to me, wild, the whites huge and bloodshot. I desperately wanted to touch him, to comfort him in some way, but as I reached out I realized there was nowhere I could touch him that wouldn’t hurt. “We need to move you. It’s…going to hurt a lot.”</p><p>He made a small <em>mmn</em> sound that I thought was assent. I turned to Tulip. “On three?” She nodded. I took a deep breath, but regretted it as the stench of charred flesh filled my nose. “One…two…<em>three</em>!” I braced my hands against Cassidy’s shoulder and shoved. Cassidy screamed, low and guttural and continuous, and tears sprang to my eyes. I thought I was making some progress as his body shifted under my hand, but when I glanced down I realized the flesh of his shoulder was sloughing away as I pushed. Finally there was enough resistance to move him and slowly, so slowly, he rolled onto the tarp. His scream renewed as he tipped and dropped onto his back, then cut off. He was finally unconscious.</p><p>I leaned away and was sick in the dirt. Tulip was already striding away. She got into her Chevelle and slammed the door and for a moment I was afraid she was leaving us, but instead she pulled the car closer, into the shade. The two of us hoisted the corners of the tarp into a makeshift hammock and managed to get Cassidy into the back seat. I climbed into the front and buckled in, hissing as the hot buckled burned my hip. Tulip snatched another emergency blanket out of the back and threw it over me. As soon as I was settled I twisted to look at Cassidy, staring until I was sure I’d seen his chest rise and fall. I turned my gaze forward, picking anxiously at my nails. We were already on the highway, racing toward town.</p><p>“Where are we going?” My voice was small. I yanked at a hangnail and started bleeding.</p><p>“Uncle’s house.” Tulip’s voice was flat, emotionless. She didn’t look at me, glaring at the road as though it had personally wronged her.</p><p>“He won’t…mind?” I glanced back at Cassidy again, uncertain.</p><p>“No.” She didn’t give further explanation, and I was afraid to ask. She handed me my phone abruptly, as if she’d only just remembered. “Was ringin’ while you were…inside.”</p><p>A voicemail notification flashed across the newly cracked screen. The caller ID read ‘Emily’. I opened it, dread clawing at my stomach.</p><p>“Juniper. I…saw what happened. What you <em>are</em>. Don’t come near me or the kids again. Your things will be on the porch.” A pause. Then, barely audible. “Goodbye.”</p><p>I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes. My throat ached and I found I couldn’t speak over a whisper. “Is it okay if I crash with you?”</p><p>Tulip glanced over at me, and her face softened a fraction. She must have heard the message in the near-silent car. “Sure thing.”</p><p>She pulled up in front of a brick one-level with a small concrete porch and empty cans scattered on the steps. “Walter’s probably sleepin’. Come on.”</p><p>I wrapped the blanket around myself and secured it. We folded the tarp over Cass to hide him from the sun and hauled him inside. “Where to?” I gasped, panting. Tulip lead me past a white-haired man snoring on the couch to a small, nondescript guest room at the back of the house. As soon as we lowered Cassidy—blessedly still unconscious—to the floor she whisked out of the room. She returned only to toss an armful of clothes at me. “I’ll be back. Stay put,” and she was gone.</p><p>I got dressed and checked carefully to make sure the blinds and curtains were closed before sitting cross-legged at Cassidy’s head and gently uncovering what was left of his face. I didn’t know what to do other than be with him. I was fixated on his breaths, sure that each one he released would be the last. I began to count them, only half conscious of it, my eyes staring blankly at the gentle rising and falling of his chest under the tarp.</p><p>At close to four hundred breaths he began to stir, his eyes rolling blindly and head rocking back and forth. A keening, wounded animal noise emanated from his mouth and raised goosebumps all over my body. I shuffled closer. My hands fluttered uselessly at my sides; I was desperate to give comfort somehow.</p><p>“Cassidy, just tell me what to do!” I wailed, not expecting an answer.</p><p>At my voice his head turned toward me and his eyes found mine. The sounds he’d been making stilled and his mouth opened, his tongue trying to wet lips that had burned away. I leaned in, not wanting to miss his words.</p><p>His jaws clacked shut inches from my cheek and I yelped as I jerked back. He was straining to hold his head up and the bare bone of his fingers scratched at the hardwood as if he were trying to claw toward me. His jaws snapped together again and again and throaty, rasping snarls tore from his throat.</p><p>I shrieked and threw myself up onto the bed. His eyes followed me and the growls continued.<br/>~~~<br/>When Tulip returned Cassidy had quieted, but when she entered his attention turned to her and his growling began again. I was sitting on the bed, my back pressed against the wall. Tulip had a bulging, sagging bag on her shoulder, and another one in her hand. She pulled out a deep red blood bag from the first and tossed it to me on the bed. From the other bag she pulled a drill and several pieces of hardware and began installing what looked like a heavy-duty deadbolt on the door.</p><p>I considered the bag, not sure of the best way to get the blood into Cassidy. There was a thick tube stuck to the side of it. I gave it a tug. It came free, but I was holding the bag too tightly and some of the blood sprayed from the tube across my face and chest. Cassidy’s snarling reached a fever pitch.</p><p>I peeked over the side of the bed. Miraculously, Cassidy had turned to his side and his hands gripped the bedframe, trying to pull himself up to me as charred flesh peeled from his palms. “Tulip?!”</p><p>“Mm?” She was somehow laser-focused on her work, the last few screws poking between her lips.</p><p>“How long?!!” Cassidy was making progress. I scrambled backwards across the bed until my back struck the wall.</p><p>“Almost…” The drill whined once more. “Done!”</p><p>Cassidy’s ruined face appeared at the end of the bed. He made a desperate lunge and managed to throw both arms halfway up the mattress, his fingers curled into claws that scrabbled for purchase against the fabric.</p><p>I thrust the open blood bag forward as if I was brandishing a weapon and <em>squeezed</em>. The blood sprayed in a fine arc down the length of the bed and into his gaping mouth. His pitted, blackened face somehow conveyed surprise. Bizarrely I recalled the scene from <em>Fox and the Hound</em> where the old widow sprays fresh cow’s milk to Tod.</p><p>As the bag ran low and the arc dwindled, I began to panic again. Cassidy began pulling himself further up the bed, stronger now that he’d fed. I was trapped. Out of options, I called up the wolf, my skin beginning its familiar prickle.</p><p>A blood bag slapped loudly against the wall opposite me and exploded, showering the dresser in red. Cassidy crossed the room in a single lunge, greedily licking and sucking at the spilled blood as I watched, transfixed.</p><p>Tulip grabbed my arm and yanked. “Come<em> on!</em>” She gave another heave and I was stumbling off of the bed and out of the room after her. She turned just long enough to fling the rest of the blood bags into the room and then slammed the door behind us, throwing the deadbolt into place.</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Superpowers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper and Tulip wait and hope.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I followed Tulip to the living room, where she turned on the TV—presumably to drown out the slurping and sucking noises we could still hear from the guest room. My duffel bag was sitting by the door—she must have stopped at Emily’s to grab it while she was out. I pulled it up onto the couch and began sorting through it, hoping that everything was there.</p><p>“Thank you for this,” I said, holding up the bag to indicate what I meant.</p><p>“Mhm.” She still wouldn’t look at me, staring fixedly at the TV without speaking. This, on top of everything else, was too much. Tears sprang to my eyes.</p><p>“I’m sorry, okay! I’m sorry I tried to kill Jesse! It’s just I saw what happened to Cass and that Jesse had the extinguisher and didn’t do anything sooner and I just…I lost my temper! Please don’t be mad, it won’t happen again.” I scrubbed my cheek with my hand. “I didn’t mean to.”</p><p>Tulip looked stunned. “I’m not <em>mad </em>at you, Juniper.”</p><p>A little half-sob, half-hiccup escaped. “You’re not?”</p><p>“No, stupid! You know how many times I wanted to kill that man myself? I’m just tryin’ to wrap my  head around everyone in Annville havin’ goddamn superpowers all of a sudden!”</p><p>A harsh laugh escaped me. “I don’t know if Cass considers it a superpower just now.”</p><p>She lit a cigarette and leaned back in her chair. “Nah, I think you’re right about that. He probably doesn’t.”<br/>~~~~~<br/>The first night wasn’t so bad—comparatively. It was quiet. I curled up in a recliner in the living room and tried to sleep. I couldn’t, of course. My nerves were tightly strung, my ears attuned for every small movement that came from Cassidy’s room.</p><p>The next morning I sat at the table, dead-eyed, slumped over a cup of coffee. “He’s not better.” My voice was dull.</p><p>“How you know?” Tulip glanced at the door, brow furrowed.</p><p>“Because he would never shut the fuck up if he was…him…and we locked him in there.” A ghost of a smile crossed my face.</p><p>“You never know, though,” Tulip countered. “It was fast last time.” She strode over to the door and gave it a brisk knock. She was immediately answered by a snarl and the sound of a body slamming against the door. The frame rattled. “Okay. Not better.” She joined me at the dining room table and picked up her cup again. “But I can’t keep stealing blood from the hospital. They’ll notice.”</p><p>We sipped our coffee in silence for a few minutes, both thinking.</p><p>My nose wrinkled in distaste suddenly. “He said that when he can, he eats…”</p><p>“<em>Animals</em>.” Tulip’s eyes lit up. She drained her coffee in one go and grabbed her keys. “I’ll be back in a little bit. Call if anything happens.” <br/>~~~~~<br/>The second night was worse. Tulip had brought home an assortment of animals—I didn’t ask from where—and we’d carefully sent them through the door one by one. Over the course of the day Cassidy’s growls had evolved into speech, but his words just made it clear how far from himself he still was. Any time he heard us speaking, or even just moving around the house, he would scream. He screamed for help, he screamed that he was hungry, he wailed in the plaintive way only deeply suffering person could. At first we thought we hadn’t fed him enough, but it seemed to continue no matter how many animals we ushered into his room.</p><p>Close to nightfall, Tulip stood abruptly. “I gotta get outta here.”</p><p>Panic rose in me at the idea of facing Cassidy’s cries alone in the night. “Where?”</p><p>She was already gathering her things. “Groceries,” she said with a stiff smile. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” Before I could protest she was gone.  </p><p>At the slamming of the door, Cassidy began to wail again. “<em>Please….Someone…I’m so hungry! HELP! SOMEONE!</em>” This time he didn’t let up, and his screaming was accompanied by frantic scratching at the door and rattling of the doorknob. I was envious of Walter and his ability to drunkenly doze through anything. I decided to give up on sleep for the night--even if Cassidy did quiet down, it would just take a passing car to set him off again--and brewed a pot of strong coffee. His shouting subsided into broken moans as I poured a cup and approached his room. I tentatively knelt in front of the closed door, making sure to stay far enough away that he couldn’t reach me through the crack underneath it.</p><p>“Cassidy?” I murmured. I braced myself against his anguished cries, but they didn’t come. I heard the floor creak as he moved closer to the door. Surprised at his calm, I pushed on. “It’s gonna be okay, Cassidy, I promise. You’re getting better. I don’t know if it feels like it, but you are. You’ll be you again, soon. I promise.”</p><p>I realized I was starting to panic and babble. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself, or at least my voice. I grasped for something easy to talk about, something that could possibly distract both of us from his condition.</p><p>I talked to him for hours. I talked about my family in Louisiana, growing up as the youngest of five and the only girl. I told him about how small and tightly-knit my community was—how we’d rarely interacted with humans outside of necessity, and Jesse and Emily and Tulip were my first real human friends. I explained how the older I got the more it chafed that my parents wanted me to be so cut off from the world—I’d never seen more than our tiny bayou town. My impatience with my sheltered existence had come to a head the night before I arrived in Annville. I had an explosive fight with my parents that ended with me cutting them off and packing my things. The next morning I had left without saying goodbye, with the intention of seeing the west coast. I had only made it a few hundred miles when the spent car stranded me in Annville.</p><p>He’d been silent all night. The sky was beginning to lighten outside as I reached the end of my story before Annville.</p><p>“Do you remember the night we met? At the church? God, I <em>hated </em>you then. It felt like you’d shown up just to ruin my life. And you knew.” A breathless laugh escaped me. “You could see how much you got to me and you loved it. If it hadn’t been for the angels showing up and trying to kill you, I might have done it myself.” I paused. “After that, it was like…we were a team? You were still annoying—you <em>are</em> still annoying—but having this…shared thing… it changed things. And the way you were that night, the way you helped get me through my…shock, I guess…you were amazing. Thank you.” I realized I was reaching forward, longing to touch the door, for some kind of contact. I quickly pulled back and wrapped both hands securely around my coffee cup.</p><p>“You need to come back, Cassidy. You have to still be you in there, because I’ve never known anyone else like you.” Understanding swept over me and I was struck by the obviousness of it and wonder that I hadn’t seen it before. “You need to come back, because I love you.”</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. I'll Be Your Mirror</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cassidy comes back to himself, but it's undetermined whether he's happy about it.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The creak of the front door startled me awake. I had fallen asleep slumped against the wall, still sitting in front of the locked spare room door. I stretched stiffly and turned. The light washing in through the living room window was all wrong for morning—it was early afternoon at least.</p><p>Tulip was back. Someone new was with her—a smartly dressed man in a closely tailored suit. His beard was closely and neatly trimmed, and his haircut appeared unassuming but I’d guess it cost him several hundred dollars. He was the image of respectability—or would have been if he weren’t bound and gagged, with blood crusted under his nose and one eye swelled closed with bruising.</p><p>When the man saw me staring, he began to wail—presumably begging for help, though the sounds were unintelligible.</p><p>“Shut up.” Tulip gave him a rough shove, and he stumbled and went sprawling across the floor where he lay whimpering.</p><p>“Who…?” I was still trying to make sense of this new turn of events.</p><p>“<em>Carlos</em>.” Her voice held more malice than I’d ever heard. “He ruined my life. Mine and Jesse’s.” She kneeled next to Carlos, who was still curled up on the floor. “Now, Carlos. You’re gonna meet a friend of mine. Cassidy. He’s in a bad way. You’re gonna help him.” Tulip grabbed Carlos’ arm and hauled him to his feet. I felt I should speak up. I didn’t want to be complicit in murder. But I trusted Tulip enough, and cared too much about Cassidy, to get in the way of what was happening.</p><p>I scurried out of the way as Tulip marched Carlos over to the door, but she stopped there. She didn’t shove him in quickly, as we had with the animals. Instead, she drove her fist into Carlos’ nose, bringing a fresh spurt of blood gushing down his face and shirt and dripping onto the floor.</p><p>The effect was almost immediate. The door shuddered as Cassidy threw his body against it, and a primal, desperate howl came from his room. As soon as the howl died off the door was struck again. Another howl.</p><p>Carlos had gone white and he tried to pull away from Tulip, throwing his weight away from the door. She kept her hold, but I could see it slipping. Without thought I jumped up and readied myself at the deadbolt. Tulip looked grimly satisfied, and nodded to me. I braced myself and quickly threw the door open. With a tremendous heave, Tulip hurled Carlos into Cassidy’s waiting grasp.</p><p>I closed the door quickly, but not quickly enough to avoid Carlos’ desperate eyes as Cassidy sank his teeth into the side of his neck.<br/>~~~~<br/>Tulip stayed long enough to listen with evident relish to Carlos’ screams and the tearing of flesh as Cassidy fed. When the room went quiet, she was off again, humming cheerfully as she went.</p><p>Cassidy was silent for fifteen minutes, then thirty. When an hour had passed with no sign from his room, I knocked tentatively. “Cassidy?”</p><p>“Leave me alone.” His voice was muffled, and plaintive, and it sounded as though speaking was an effort. But it was him. My heart soared.</p><p>“I’m not going anywhere, Cass.” I touched the deadbolt, then hesitated. “Can I come in?”</p><p>“You don’t want that.” He sounded so sure. I ached for him. I opened the deadbolt slowly, and waited. When several moments had passed without protest I cracked open the door.</p><p>The smell that rolled out was horrific. The air conditioning hadn’t reached this room with the door closed, and the baking heat combined with the sheer number of dead animals—and Carlos, though I tried not to look at him—created a wave of putrid air that choked me and made my eyes water.</p><p>In the dim light, and among the bodies, it was a moment before I found Cassidy. He had folded himself into a corner, facing the wall. He sat with his knees to his chest, his head bowed between them. His body was still pitted with deep scars that stood in stark contrast against new, pink skin. His hair had begun to come back in in irregular patches that covered only part of his scalp.</p><p>I exhaled shakily. “Oh, Cassidy,” I breathed.</p><p>A full-body shudder rocked him, he growled softly. “I’m not safe for you right now.” He spoke slowly but very clearly, as if the words were difficult for him to find.</p><p>I moved very slowly into the room and perched on the edge of the mattress. I saw his shoulders rise as he inhaled, and another great tremor shook him. His fingers clenched around his upper arms, and he suddenly threw his head to one side and bit deeply into his bicep. After a long minute the tension eased from his shoulders and he released his arm, spitting a mouthful of his own blood on the floor. When that was done, he turned his face to the wall again.</p><p>“You’re not the only one who loses yourself.” His voice was thick with self loathing.</p><p>“And when I did you helped me, and made sure I was safe and taken care of.” I twisted my fists in the blanket to stop myself reaching out to him. I didn’t want to make things harder than they already were.</p><p>He scoffed. “I don’t deserve the kindness. A miserable coward that wants to die but when it comes down to it I’d rather kill someone th’n go through with it.”</p><p>My eyes turned to Carlos’ body, its eyes glassy and staring. “Tulip said he’s a bad guy. If that helps.” I knew it was small comfort, but I didn’t know what else to say. “Is it okay if I come closer?”</p><p>He shrugged one shoulder. I took that as assent and scooted along the edge of the bed until I was within arm’s reach. Cassidy was very still. I tentatively reached out one hand and rested it between his shoulder blades. I could feel his muscles trembling with tension under his skin and held perfectly still. Slowly, so slowly, he relaxed under my hand.</p><p>“Tell me if it’s too much,” I murmured. A tiny nod. I slid off the bed to the floor, trying not to move unpredictably. When he didn’t pull away, I slipped closer until I was able to wrap my arms around his shoulders and press my chest to his back. For a long moment he tensed again, and then his body went limp. His hand found one of mine and clung to it tightly. I rested my forehead against his shoulder. He smelled of sweat and waste and blood, but there was no hint of the burned smell that had hung in my nostrils like a bad dream, and I was glad. <br/>~~~~<br/>We sat there for a long while, silent, breathing in unison. I closed my eyes, blocking out our grisly surroundings to focus on the feeling of his skin under my cheek. His grip on my hand never slackened.</p><p>Finally, Cassidy spoke. “I’m---” He had to stop and clear his throat. “I’m so sorry, Juniper.”</p><p>I blinked my eyes open and pulled back a bit to look at him—though I could only see the back of his head. “For what?”</p><p>He laughed humorlessly. “For <em>what</em>. I tried to kill you. Jaysis, I came damn close to it. I was in there, I…I remember ev’ryt’in’, but I couldn’ stop myself. The…t’irst, it took over everything.” He was tensing again, beginning to shudder. I pulled him hard against me and, unthinking, kissed his shoulder.</p><p>“But I’m not hurt. I’m okay.” I paused, then smiled against his shoulder. “You were dying, it was self defense. Self defense isn’t even a crime in Texas.”</p><p>He exhaled sharply. “It’s not funny, Juniper! If you’d been jus’ a little slower…or I’d been stronger…”</p><p>“But you weren’t.” I squeezed him even harder. “And I wasn’t. <em>Please</em> Cassidy, please don’t be upset with yourself. We just have to try to make sure you don’t get that hurt again.”</p><p>That got a dry laugh out of him. “Y’do remember you’re talkin’ to a man who jumped out of a plane with no parachute.”</p><p>I blinked and made a mental note to get that particular story out of him at a later date. “Well, ‘try’ is the operative word.” I gave one final squeeze before I stood and held my hands out to him. “Come on.”</p><p>“Where?” He eyed my hands suspiciously; it was clear he’d planned to spend the rest of eternity in the corner loathing himself.</p><p>“I want you to feel like yourself again. Come <em>on</em>.” I pulled him to his feet and led him to the bathroom, darting ahead to double and triple check the curtains against the sun. When we passed Walter’s room I ducked in and snagged some clean clothes. I found a clean, fluffy-ish towel in the linen closet and perched on the edge of the tub to turn on the tap and begin adjusting the water temperature. “How hot?” When I glanced up at Cassidy, he was gazing at me with a vague smile on his face.</p><p>“Jus’ warm’s fine. Thanks.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw him strip out of the remains of his pants. I blushed and kept my eyes fixed on the tap as I finished my adjustments and switched to the shower. I began to brush past him to give him privacy, but he seized my arm, making me jump. “Stay with me?” I hesitated for a moment, then nodded, returning to sit on the toilet lid.</p><p>He was in the shower for a long time, but when he emerged he did look brighter. I handed him the towel I’d found and tried not to watch as he gingerly patted himself dry. When he’d dressed he took a huge breath and released it gustily. Then, surprising me, he crushed me against him in a tight bear hug and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.</p><p>“Thank yeh, Juniper,” he murmured against my hair.</p><p>I nuzzled against his chest happily. “I’m glad you’re back, Cassidy.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter originally had a different title, but I feel like 'I'll Be Your Mirror' by The Velvet Underground suits it very well...I listened to the song too soon after finishing writing this and started crying so *shrugging emoji*. Definitely recommend checking it out!<br/>Constructive criticism is welcome, as always!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Angel Hands</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jesse needs angel hands to use the direct line to heaven. Cassidy and Juniper can help with that.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When we emerged from the bathroom, Jesse Custer was standing in the dim living room. A harsh growl tore out of my throat and my lip began to curl back from my growing and shifting teeth, but I was stopped short by Cassidy’s hand clamping tightly on my shoulder. I looked back at him, unsure, but Cassidy’s eyes were fixed on Jesse, while Jesse was watching me warily. I relaxed my stance with some effort, and Jesse’s nerves seemed to settle a bit.</p><p>“We good?” he asked.</p><p><em>No.</em> “Yeah,” I ground out. “We’re good.”</p><p>“Can I talk to Cassidy a minute? Alone?”</p><p>I shifted my weight so that I was blocking Cassidy from view—as well as I could when he had a foot of height on me. Cassidy chuckled from behind me.</p><p>“’S alright, Juniper. The padre ‘n I will be jus’ fine.” I hesitated, then nodded.</p><p>“I’ll be outside if you need me,” I said, holding Jesse’s eyes. He gave a slight nod and I stalked past him out the front door, where I sat on the top step in the dark, listening for signs of trouble.<br/>~~~~~<br/>It wasn’t very long before they joined me outside, dragging Carlos’ body wrapped in a ratty blanket. They had evidently settled whatever had happened between them and were <em>best mates</em> again, laughing and joking. They heaved Carlos into the trunk and made a final trip for the animals that Tulip and I had fed to Cassidy. When they were finally loaded up, Cassidy turned to me before they got in.</p><p>“Yeh comin’?” he called. Jesse’s face darkened. I stood and dusted off the butt of my shorts.</p><p>“Coming where?” I asked, striding to join them.</p><p>Cassidy held up a small wood case by way of explanation. “The padre needs angel hands.”</p><p>I chewed this over as I got in the car and buckled myself in. My nose wrinkled when understanding hit me. “You mean angel hands like from the other night.” It felt like eighty years ago. Surely they wouldn’t be…well preserved enough?</p><p>“Those ‘re th’ ones. Take us to the church, padre, we’ll get yeh hooked up.”</p><p>On the way to the church, Jesse recounted his last few days—Odin Quincannon’s siege on the church, his arrest and subsequent escape, and his time on the run from the law. As much as I tried to hold a grudge, I found myself feeling for him. It was a lot to go through in three days.</p><p>When we pulled up to the crooked dead tree I headed straight toward the old dead tree, Cassidy started toward the church with Jesse trailing behind him.</p><p>“Where are you guys going?” I cocked my hip and tilted my head. They stopped, and Cassidy turned back to me, confused.</p><p>“We’ll need shovels fer th’…hand retrieval process,” he explained.</p><p>I rolled my eyes. “Please. I can dig faster than the two of you combined. Plus, you did all the digging last time. It’s my turn.”</p><p>Realization crossed Cassidy’s face, and he grinned and strode back over. Jesse was slower to understand, but after a moment he put things together.</p><p>Much to my gratification, his eyes widened when he grasped my intention. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”</p><p>“Of course I’m <em>sure</em>,” I mocked, but then I hesitated. “Just give me some space.” I peeled off my t-shirt and wriggled out of my shorts and underwear.</p><p>“Is that a requirement?” Jesse asked snidely.</p><p>“Unless you’re gonna replace my clothes every time—you owe me a dress, by the way—yes. It is.” I turned to face him and realized that he’d only taken a handful of steps back after I’d requested ‘space’. I snorted and grabbed his shoulders, marching him backwards until there was a good twenty feet between him and where I planned to start digging. I marched back to where I’d started, but as I passed Cassidy I paused, considering. I tugged gently at the sleeve of his flannel. “Take this off, please.”</p><p>“Oh, are we all getting’ naked in th’ moonlight, then?” Cassidy asked, raising his eyebrows. I glared, and he complied. I marched the flannel over to Jesse.</p><p>“Put this on.”</p><p>He held it at arm’s length distastefully. “<em>Why</em>?”</p><p>“<em>Because</em> I’ll be less likely to try to kill you if you smell like—” <em>like pack</em>, I wanted to say. “Like a friend instead of like you!” Jesse scoffed but yanked the flannel on and stuffed his hands in the pockets. I stomped back to the tree and inhaled deeply, closing my eyes to start my phase.</p><p>When I opened my eyes again, the desert night had transformed. I could hear the click of termites’ jaws as they tunneled through the tree next to me. The night air, plain and dusty before, was scented with gasoline and cigarette smoke and distant cow dung that I longed to roll in. The coyote calls that echoed across the plain had meaning—<em>I’m here and this place is mine. </em>I threw my head back and howled a response, silencing them.</p><p>A small cough from behind me spooked me and I leaped into the air, landing with my paws splayed and my hackled raised. A human-but-not was baring his teeth at me. I stretched my head toward him and took a few cautious sniffs. Pack. The tip of my tail wagged and I licked him from jaw to hairline. He scrubbed at his face and then pointed at the ground under my paws. “We got t’ings to do, remember.” The words felt like a foreign language, studied once but long unused, and the meaning trickled into my brain slowly. I peered around him into the darkness at another human. I drew in a deep sniff. His smell made my hackles rise, but he smelled like Human-But-Not, too. I let loose an uncertain growl that rose into a whine and looked to the human-but-not. “No, that’s Jesse. We don’t eat Jesse,” he admonished, waggling a finger at me. I sneezed at him. He pointed at the ground beneath me again. “Angel hands. Focus.”</p><p>I lowered my nose to the ground, where he was pointing and inhaled deeply. A delicious scent tickled my nose. My ears pricked forward. Leather and…something else. I clawed away a layer of dirt to free more of the smell. <em>Carrion! </em>I gave a delighted yip and my tail started waving wildly as I began to dig, flinging the dusty earth with abandon. I heard a sputtering protest as my exuberant digging covered the two humans in dirt, but couldn’t bring myself to care.</p><p>Too soon my claws reached the tough leather. I scratched at it but it wouldn’t budge. I looked to Human-But-Not and whined plaintively. He kneeled next to the hole, then paused. “Uh…you’ll have to move, Juniper.” Again it took long moments for the meaning of the words to take shape in my mind, but when they did I sprang from the hole. Human-But-Not opened the leather, and the carrion smell grew stronger. I licked my lips and laid down at the edge of the hole, trying to be patient. Human-But-Not turned to the human. Jesse. “How many hands d’yeh need, padre? Two? Four?”</p><p>“One should do it,” Jesse said. He smelled like pack, and his presence didn’t seem to bother Human-But-Not, but his voice made my ears fold back and a growl rise in my throat. Human-But-Not tossed him a piece of carrion, which he deftly caught. I whined, put out at being second. Human-But-Not stared, then seemed to understand.</p><p>“Juniper, if I let you eat these bodies you’ll never forgive me.” He was baring his teeth again as he closed the leather. I whined again. He shook his head. “I t’ink yeh’d better turn back now. We c’n fill this in ourselves.”</p><p>I huffed and paced away, taking the opportunity for a few last deep sniffs of the night air before I began the shift back to human.</p><p>When I came to myself, Carlos and the dead animals had been heaped on top of the leather case and Jesse had taken the car to the church—to get shovels, Cass said. Cassidy had begun kicking dirt back over the leather case that held the angels’ remains while he waited. I quickly dressed and joined him.</p><p>“Thanks for, uh, not feeding me corpses,” I said, very carefully not looking at him.</p><p>“Well, t’anks for savin’ us all that work,” he replied, not seeming put out at all. When Jesse returned, we finished filling the hole in in companionable silence. Jesse didn’t speak again until we got in the car, dusty and tired. Then he threw his arm across the passenger seat, craning around to look at me in the back.</p><p>“Uh, I forgot to mention, you’re gonna have to skip town.”</p><p>My eyebrows shot up. “I’m sorry, <em>what?</em>”</p><p>He shrugged helplessly. “It’s Emily. She’s been telling the whole town how you infiltrated her house without tellin’ her you’re a--” He floundered for a moment, “—a whatever you are, and how you tried to kill me, and it’s only a matter of time until you savage one of the good people of Annville.”</p><p>I sputtered. “But—I—None of that is <em>true</em>!”</p><p>Jesse grinned ruefully. “You did try to kill me.”</p><p>“Don’t t’ink tha’s really helpin’, padre,” Cassidy murmured.</p><p>He nodded once. “Right. The point is, she’s got the town foaming for your blood. If you’re seen there again…Well, I just think it’s better if you split.”</p><p>I was falling. Cassidy and Jesse suddenly felt so far away as I absorbed what Jesse had said.</p><p>Leave Annville?</p><p>It wasn’t where I had wanted to end up but…it was mine. I’d shaped a life here—a small life, but a life. I felt more at home in Annville than I ever could have imagined when my tired old car deposited me here. I loved the small dusty town and its sometimes-questionable inhabitants. And now they hated me—hated me so much that I couldn’t be safe on the street. Not because of anything I’d done but because of who I was. And Emily—my first friend in Annville—was heading the charge.</p><p>I realized I’d begun to cry and wiped my eyes. Cassidy was twisted around in the back seat, watching me with a knowing, and terribly sad, expression. He reached back suddenly and grabbed one of my hands in both of his. “I’ll come with yeh,” he said earnestly.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>He nodded, squeezing my hand. “You ‘n me. We’ll go t’ the coast, like yeh said. See the whales ‘n whatnot.”</p><p>“But…you like it here.” The idea that Cassidy might leave for me drowned me in a fresh wave of guilt.</p><p>“Naw, ‘s gettin’ a bit borin’, t’ be honest.” He turned to Jesse. “No offense, padre.” Jesse shrugged, obviously unbothered. “I <em>would</em> like t’ see how this whole God thing plays out but after Sunday mornin’, it’s you ‘n me, kid.”</p><p>I was able to give him a shaky smile and nodded. “Okay. Thank you, Cassidy.” I squeezed his hands hard before pulling back. “I should go.”</p><p>He frowned. “What, now?”</p><p>“Yeah,” I shrugged. “Emily knows if I’m not with her I’m gonna be with you two or Tulip. I don’t want you getting into trouble along with me.” Before I could think too much about what I was doing I climbed out of the car and began to strip for the second time that night. “I’ll wait for you outside of town. Just whistle or something when you’re ready.”</p><p>I heard Cassidy’s door close before he joined me on my side of the car. “Are you gonna be alright by yourself?” He cupped my cheek gently and stared searchingly into my eyes.</p><p>“I…think so.” I didn’t want to lie to him. “It’s not so long. Two days.” I managed to smile up at him. “And then the whales and whatnot.”</p><p>His long fingers traced down my cheek from my temple to my chin, which he grasped gently and tilted my head up to kiss me softly and chastely on the mouth. His face was scratchy with stubble, but his lips were soft and giving against mine. My hands reached up without my consent to tangle themselves in his hair, drawing him closer. He smelled of sweat and weed and sunscreen with a metallic tint of blood—I inhaled deeply, trying to brand his scent into my memory. After a long moment he broke the kiss, then kissed me again lightly on the forehead. “Don’t lose yerself. Come back to me,” he murmured with his cheek resting gently against the top of my head.</p><p>“I will,” I whispered. I forced myself to pull away and turn to stride into the desert night. Before I’d left the glow of the headlights I was bounding on four paws, the sand flying beneath my feet.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I tried something slightly different with her wolfy transformation this time, let me know what you think!<br/>As always, thank you so much for reading &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Lone Wolf</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper passes the time waiting for Sunday.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a tricky thing, allowing the wolf enough control to keep me safe and fed but not so much that I wandered off into the desert and never returned. I knew that during the day it wouldn’t be safe to be active—my wolf form wasn’t adapted to tolerate heat well, and I doubted that a giant wolf wandering alone was a common sight in Texas—so I planned to spend the few hours before dawn making sure I’d be fed and sheltered for the day. I kept the lights of the town on my left and loped steadily through the dark, slowing occasionally to scent the air around me.</p><p>The sky was beginning to lighten behind me by the time I was able to find water that smelled clean. A shallow creek flowed quickly through the bottom of a rocky ravine, scrubby bushes clinging to the banks. I scrambled down the embankment and drank deeply. The rustle of leaves made my ears twitch and I raised my head, water dripping from my muzzle. Above me on the opposite bank a herd of pronghorns stood frozen, tails twitching anxiously.</p><p>Without thought I launched myself across the stream and up the other side, my claws digging deep trenches in the loosely packed earth. The pronghorn scattered, their tails flashing white in alarm. They were fast—faster than I anticipated. I stretched my stride, my body low to the ground as I sprinted. My breath came in sharp gasps. The herd split and scattered in five directions, and I bolted after the nearest. I gained until my shoulders were level with its haunches, but before I could grab it, it swerved away out of my reach. I growled softly and adjusted my course.</p><p>When I gained ground again I didn’t hesitate. I sank my teeth around its hamstring, just above the hock. The pronghorn released a grunt of surprise and alarm as my molars ground against bone. I gave my head a violent shake and felt the leg pop out of place. The pronghorn cried out again, the whites of its eyes bulging. It seemed to sense the desperation of its situation: giving up the attempt to flee, it rounded on me as best it could and tossed its head, threatening me with curved, sharp horns.</p><p>I released the leg to dodge out of the way. The pronghorn stumbled on its mangled leg, and I danced around to its front, every sense fixed on its throat. My prey seemed to sense my intention and lowered its head in an attempt to protect its most vulnerable point, but it wasn’t fast enough. I darted in low and fastened my jaws around its throat, crushing its trachea and puncturing its carotid. Blood spilled over my face, filling my nose and eyes, but I didn’t allow my grip to weaken until the pronghorn’s struggles had slowed and then ceased.</p><p>I ate until the sun had fully risen over the desert hills and my belly hung low and pendulous. When the heat began to make the sand in the distance shimmer like still water, I made my lazy way back to my sheltered ravine. After another long drink I crawled under some of the thicker foliage and curled up with my chin pillowed on my tail to sleep away the day.<br/>~~~~~<br/>Shortly after dark I was jolted awake by the sounds of engines and raucous yelling. The crack of a gunshot split the night air.</p><p>“<em>Here, puppy puppy!</em>” The man who called and whistled sounded drunk, and it seemed likely that his laughing friends were, too. One of them let loose a long howl, and I realized with queasy shock that they were looking for me. Hunting me.</p><p>I fought the urge to bolt, instead curling up still tighter and closing my eyes, hoping my tawny fur would camouflage me against the sand. I tried to listen closely without allowing my ears to prick. I tracked the movement of the men as their engines roared close, closer…and then away again. Again they approached—zig-zagging across the sand, I realized.</p><p>“<em>Tracks! Miles, we got tracks!</em>” The voice was too close, just over the edge of the ravine, and my muscled quivered with the instinct to run. Again I made the massive effort to still myself and waited, scarcely breathing. The engines cut out and I heard an avalanche of pebbles and curses as two of the men skidded and stumbled down the embankment. One was a stranger; a hulking, thick set man with a bald head and wiry beard who I’d never seen before.</p><p>The other was Miles. I had to choke back a whimper as I recognized him. Miles who had welcomed me to town readily, Miles who had shared meals with Emily and the kids and I, who was quick to offer aid when someone needed it. I’d thought he was my friend.</p><p>But of course, if Emily had declared that I was a danger to Annville, Miles would jump at the chance to prove himself the valiant protector.</p><p>Once I’d recognized them I screwed my eyes shut again, afraid I would be given away by their gleam in the moonlight. I listened intently, carefully parsing out each sound and its meaning.</p><p>The stranger tromped forward, presumably following my tracks from the night before to the water. Miles followed more gingerly, taking short, mincing steps over the uneven gravel. I readied myself to run—if they noticed the tracks that lead to my scrubby shelter, I would have to bolt. Down the length of the ravine was my best bet, I thought—the scrub would give me more cover than the open plain above.</p><p>His steps carried him sloshing into the creek. He hadn’t noticed the other set of tracks. “Look!” He must have noticed the deep gouges from my pursuit of the pronghorn the night before. “It musta took off ‘n just kept runnin’.” I breathed a barely perceptible sigh of relief.</p><p>“Should we follow it? Maybe we can catch up.” Miles, tentatively.</p><p>The stranger scoffed at him. “Sure, if you wanna chase it down on foot. Banks’r too steep for the quads.”</p><p>“I told Emily I would bring back its body.” Now Miles sounded like a sulky child.</p><p>“So we’ll go blow the face off a coyote. Doubt she’ll know the difference,” the tracker replied. The men standing on the bank snickered and engines began to roar to life as they dispersed. Miles and the stranger were the last to go, but after a time they scrambled up the embankment and were gone.</p><p>My eyes flicked open, but I didn’t move. Long after the grumble of the engines had faded from my hearing I lay frozen, afraid to create any tracks that could lead them to my hiding place. My heart was heavy, and I couldn’t help releasing a low keening moan into the night air. I’d known that Emily was angry and betrayed, but the idea that she would want me put down like a dangerous dog was beyond belief. Even if I hadn’t been afraid to leave my hiding place, my grief paralyzed me. Before Annville, I’d always lived in a community where werewolves were accepted, the norm. To imagine that the rest of humanity considered us such an abhorrence broke my heart. The bubbling stream just feet from my nose held no appeal, though my mouth was dry. The idea of finding the energy to rise and track prey was laughable. I passed the night in the scrub, unmoving, consumed by grief. When the birds began their morning calls I focused on the sound, letting their trills and whistles lull me to sleep. <br/>~~~~<br/>Something solid slammed into my back, sending me skidding and rolling into the creek. Before I could gain my feet a colossal roaring filled the air. I cowered, my ears aching with the pressure of it. The wind that followed threw me against the opposite bank and blinded me with flying sand and grit. As I began to recover from the first gust, another came from the opposite direction, howling down into the ravine and sending me sprawling into the water again.</p><p>I lay panting in the shallow stream, blinking rapidly to try to clear my eyes. My ears were ringing from the massive blast, and I shook my head, trying to clear it. When I felt I was able, I stood carefully. My body ached all over, but my injuries felt minor. I was glad I had been sheltered in the deep ravine. I clambered slowly up the bank to try to see what had happened. When I reached level ground, my legs gave out beneath me. Not from injury but from shock at the sight that greeted me.</p><p>Annville was gone.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Track</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper searches for something familiar in the waste of Annville.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I sprinted toward the remains of the town, desperate to help, the ill will of the people of Annville forgotten. Surely there had to be some survivors, anyone, someone sheltered and safe…</p><p>
  <em>Cassidy.</em>
</p><p>The image of him alone, burned up—not only from the explosion but from the hot sun overhead—gave length to my stride. I had reached the edge of the destruction and thrust my nose to the ground, inhaling deeply, searching for his unique scent. Nothing. I began weaving through the destruction with my nose down, hunting desperately. The ground grew warmer under my paws as I made my way closer to the town center, and then hot. It finally grew too scorching for me to continue, and I backed off with a yelp.</p><p>I retraced my steps to where the ground was more bearable and began a wide revolution around the remains of the town, nose still pressed to the ground. I tried very hard to focus only on my sense of smell and ignore the wreckage around me, but it was difficult when I had to hurdle the twisted remains of a child’s bike or step over the smoking remains of what had been someone’s torso.</p><p>As the day went on my desperation grew. I’d found traces of Jesse, Tulip, and Cassidy, but nothing less than a few days old. The sun was beginning to sink, and I was considering risking burned paws to go further into town, when a sudden fresh whiff pulled me up short. I wheeled around and backtracked slowly to find the scent again.</p><p>It was emanating from the highway that lead back toward the church. There was a strong smell of cigarettes—not unique in Annville—but it was accompanied by the scent of pot, sunscreen, and a faint metallic tang of blood. <em>Cassidy!</em> The tip of my tail began to wag as I continued to search. I picked up the scent of snakeskin and pomade—Jesse! I took a final deep sniff and detected bubble gum and hair dye. <em>Tulip!!</em> I gave a joyful yip and after confirming that the trail was leading out of town, I took off loping down the highway, my tongue lolling.<br/>~~~~<br/>The night was cool and clear and the earth along the edge of the highway was firm and smooth under my paws. My steady stride ate up the miles quickly, and I felt I could keep up the pace for days. I slowed briefly at each exit along the way to ensure that the Chevelle hadn’t changed course, and stopped to drink when I could. As the moon reached its apex in the sky a flock of bats fluttered low overhead and I ate, leaping high into the air to catch them in my jaws.</p><p>Soon after my meal I slowed to a halt as I took in an unexpected scene. Four police cars were scattered across the highway in pieces, shrapnel littering the road. The bodies of the former occupants lay where they’d fallen in the road and drying blood shone black on the pavement. A lone coyote was feasting on one of the dead. My hackles raised involuntarily as I crept closer. I checked over each of the bodies and was grateful that none of them smelled familiar. One of them made me sneeze sharply, my eyes watering—it reeked of heat and spice. Then I set about trying to sort what had happened. I paced the scene with my nose to the pavement. Jesse and Cassidy and Tulip <em>had</em> been there—their scents were strong on the road rather than wafting through the air. There was a scent of burning, but not strong, nothing that Cassidy couldn’t walk away from. The Chevelle was gone, which was promising. I turned to continue on my way, but another scent caught my attention.</p><p>The components of the scent alone were innocuous enough. Leather and horses, gunmetal and powder. Under it all a strong current of sulphur. My nose burned as I inhaled and something about the smell made my hackles rise still higher, my lips peel back from my teeth, and a thin dribble of urine speckled the pavement. I sneezed and shook myself hard, trying to settle. Once I felt reasonably calm I paced the scene once more, and when I found nothing more of note I continued on my way.<br/>~~~~~<br/>The sun was peeking over the horizon when I reached another sign. The Chevelle had stopped at a dusty gas station just off the highway. I investigated the lot and found that Cassidy and Tulip had ducked briefly inside before they all left again. As I made my way to the highway I made a grisly find: A human tongue lay covered in dust on the side of the road. It reeked of the hot sulphur scent that had made my hackles rise earlier, and I kicked dirt over it before I continued.</p><p>My pace was slowed by the daylight. There still wasn’t much traffic, but there was enough that being spotted was a concern—I traveled parallel to the highway but some distance away, and at each exit I had to creep up to the road and wait until no cars were in sight to sneak a quick check and ensure the Chevelle hadn’t exited. As my shadow shortened and the day grew hotter, my pace slowed still more. Finally I found a small copse of scrubby trees next to a brook. I drank until my belly sloshed and collapsed to sleep. <br/>~~~~~<br/>When I woke, a painfully oblivious peccary was drinking from the brook. I threw myself at it and was able to get my jaws over its thick neck, killing it with a quick snap. I was only able to scarf a few massive bites before a great herd of them came flooding into the copse, squealing in rage. I leapt to my feet and bolted but wasn’t quite quick enough, there was a sear of bright pain as a tusk cut into my thigh. I gave a yelp and tucked my tail as I ran on into the night.</p><p>The rest of the night was blessedly uneventful, except for one discovery: I realized that whoever carried the chilling sulfur scent was following the same path that I was. The thought made me feel cold all over, and I increased my pace.</p><p> As the sun rose I crawled into a drainage pipe under the highway. I lapped some of the tepid water and immediately dosed off.</p>
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<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Search</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper continues her hunt.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pain in my leg and ravenous hunger woke me before sunset. I took a long drink of the murky water, trying unsuccessfully to quiet my growling stomach, and crawled out of the pipe. When I tried to stand I stumbled and yelped—my tusked thigh was hot with inflammation that spread from hip to hock, and the muscles had stiffened in my cramped sleeping position. It took several minutes to loosen the muscles enough to extend my leg to the ground, and then I staggered: it wouldn’t take my weight.</p><p>I limped up to the road and searched out the Chevelle’s trail. It was faint—so barely noticeable that I wouldn’t have found it if I hadn’t known what to scent for. Panic at the idea of losing the trail made me feel cold and I shambled down the highway as quickly as my aching body could take me.</p><p>I would have missed the next turnoff if it weren’t for the sulfur-and-leather scent that made my hackles rise. It still followed along the Chevelle’s path and was fresher and stronger than the lingering scents from Jesse, Cassidy, and Tulip. The trail turned down a dirt road off the highway past a few run down houses to an even more run-down house. I hesitated in the drive—I could smell dead things, and see a dead dog by the door. I crept slowly toward the house, my eyes fixed on the open door swinging in the breeze and my ears pricked to detect any living creature approaching.</p><p>Pain pierced the pad of one of my front paws and I yelped and skittered sideways. I’d been so intent on the house that I’d walked across broken glass scattered in the drive, and a shard was embedded deeply in my paw, blood welling slowly to the surface around it. I limped slowly through the open and swinging door, my head low. A quick sniff of the air inside revealed that while Jesse, Cassidy, and Tulip had been here, the house was empty of living things. I shifted back to my human form and pulled the glass from my palm with a hiss and tossed it into the sink, then pressed a dish towel against the freely bleeding wound. My senses were frustratingly dull after so long as a wolf, but I could see a dead man reclined in the corner with a gaping hole in his chest. I felt a prickle of guilt as I yanked the fridge door open and scanned the shelves. I grabbed the closest package—bologna—and stuffed slice after slice into my mouth, nearly choking myself. When it was gone I was able to slow down and took the time to make myself a stack of ham and cheese sandwiches, even slicing a wrinkly tomato and digging around until I found some fancy mustard. I finished two of them standing at the counter and then took the last with me as I explored the house.</p><p>I padded into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. There was a mostly-used bottle of oxycontin on the lowest shelf, and I swallowed one dry. A little higher up was an expired bottle of amoxicillin and I took four, pushing them down with a massive bite of my sandwich. I finished eating, licking the last of the mayo and mustard from my fingers, and took a long, hot shower. Afterward I opened doors until I found a bedroom and gratefully collapsed on top of the blankets, too exhausted to care very much that I was sleeping in a dead man’s bed. <br/>~~~~~<br/>It took some time to remember where I was when I woke up. I was still stiff, but the gash in my palm had clotted over and the heat and redness in my thigh was down. I gave myself a few minutes to enjoy the soft-ish bed and stretch luxuriously before I rose and raided the kitchen one more time, filling up on an entire box of strawberry Pop-Tarts. I shifted and stretched again before trotting out the door, making a wide circle around the shimmering glass shards that littered the drive.</p><p>The Chevelle’s trail was imperceptible now, but the other track was still strong and fresh—I put myself perhaps a day behind whatever was leaving it. The scent still made my lip wrinkle involuntarily, and I kept finding myself dawdling out of subconscious dread of catching up. The trail led me nearly to a small strip mall plastered in neon lights, but then took a sharp jog away and continued down the highway. After several hours I spotted debris on the road twinkling in the glow of a motel’s street sign. I feared more glass, but as I got closer I could smell and then see that it was metallic. A shiver swept through me as I recognized that the debris was made up of hundreds of shotgun shells littering the road. Just beyond them was a crowd of bodies, each with a bullet wound so large that many had had parts blown off. I scanned the bodies but didn’t recognize any of them.</p><p>As I got closer to the motel I realized that most of the windows were broken and the doors hung off their hinges. More bodies littered the rooms and the courtyard. I systematically checked each of the rooms but found no signs of Jesse, Cassidy, or Tulip, though I was sure they had been somehow involved. Once I had completed my search of the motel, I continued down the highway.  </p><p>I began to worry as the trail lead me directly toward a massive, glitzy hotel. The parking lot was packed and there was no way I could investigate it without being seen. The sun was rising behind it and I knew daylight wouldn’t help things, so I scratched out a shallow depression for myself in the ditch next to the road and curled up to sleep with my tail over my nose.</p><p>I waited until the moon was high overhead before approaching the hotel, though the occasional guest still entered or exited, and a valet stood swaying and yawning just inside the door. I waited for a gap between patrons and sprinted up to the main doors, then zig-zagged rapidly across the entrance area, sniffing deeply. I found where the trail entered, and then only moments later found where it exited again and I was off, nose to the ground. As I loped away into the night I could hear someone drunkenly cooing after me, asking if I was a good boy in need of pets.</p><p>The path rarely wandered from the highway after that. I fell into a mindless rhythm of napping through the day and loping after my quarry through the night, drinking and hunting when I could, or sometimes scavenging along the side of the road. If the track grew too fresh I would purposely drop back—I’d grown somewhat used to the scent but had no desire to meet whoever or whatever had left it.  </p><p>I’d left the highway and been travelling parallel to it for a few days after it became more crowded, even at night. My tactic finally failed me one evening shortly after sunset when the highway became a massive bridge that spanned a stretch of brackish water so wide that I couldn’t see the other shore. I edged up to the side of the highway, trying to keep low and out of sight. There was a pedestrian walkway that would mostly block the view of the passing cars, and I huffed a sigh of relief. I kept my body low anyway as I trotted along the bridge, hoping anyone who did spot me would see a wandering coyote or a large stray dog. The bridge was so long that by the time I reached the other end the sky was lightening in front of me. I doubled around and crawled under the bridge on the shore, giving ample space to the humans already living there, and went to sleep.</p><p>When I reached the top of the embankment the next evening, I had to acknowledge that there was no way I would be able to continue unseen. The city was full of vibrant night-life, the streets busy with traffic and with drunk party-goers. I stuck to shadows and alleys as best I could without losing the scent, but still had to dodge the hands of baby-talking drunks who had apparently never seen a wild animal in their life. I was too excited to be too annoyed though, because in addition to the trail of sulphur and leather I was beginning to note traces of Jesse and Tulip and <em>Cassidy! </em>The tip of my tail wagged each time I caught one of their scents—here at the door to a music club, there outside a bar, once outside a massive mansion with perfectly manicured lawns and two armed guards at the gate.</p><p>After a while I was able to abandon the sulphur-and-leather trail and follow the scent of my people as it wafted through the air—a less efficient but far more pleasant option. My pace increased as the strength of the scent grew until I was sprinting through the streets, bounding in excitement. I reached a walled-in block where all three of their scents intermingled on the pavement, only hours old. My tail was wagging furiously as I rounded the corner, but an odd sight slowed my approach. A massive, windowless white van was parked in the street, its doors hanging open and engine running. The gate—presumably the only access through the wall—hung open, its lock smoking lightly. I edged closer, whining uneasily. I peeked around the edge of the gate just in time to see a person in all-white tactical gear disappear into the building, leaving the door propped open behind him. I sniffed the air and noted, disappointed but not surprised, that the scents of Jesse and Cassidy and Tulip had grown stronger. I trotted across the courtyard to the door, listening intently to the men inside, only to be pulled up short there by a loud clatter. I froze, and the footsteps on the stairs stilled for a moment. I heard a door creak open inside and began to steal up the steps, cursing the soft click of my nails against the wood.</p><p>There was a barrage of oddly muffled gunshots from upstairs, followed by an all-too-familiar scream. All thought of caution forgotten, I launched myself up the stairs, my teeth bared and a growl already rising in my throat.</p>
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<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Reunited and it Feels So Good</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper helps clean up the aftermath of the Grail attack.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cassidy was closest to the door. He was pinned down by a man in white on each arm while a third one knelt on him and plunged a knife into his already-eviscerated gut again and again. I launched myself into the air and my leap carried me into the stabber, sending us both sprawling. I closed my jaws over his helmet and crushed down with all of my strength. There was a hot stab of pain as he brought his knife up into my side, but I didn’t loosen my grip. I heard electrical crackling and the scent of burning filled my nose as the electronics inside were crushed. He screamed, causing the other two men to yelp as cries were amplified directly into their ears through the comms. There was a sudden crunch as the helmet gave way and hot blood and brains spurted into my mouth.</p><p>I abandoned the limp body and spun to face the two remaining men, but before I could move two gunshots rang out above my head and they dropped. I spun again. The shooter wasn’t Jesse or Tulip, but another one of the men in white. Jesse stood behind him, disheveled but unhurt. He summoned the man to him with Genesis, and the fur along my spine stood erect. Before he could speak again, a white-haired man in a ratty housecoat lunged out of the shadows and struck the last invader so hard that they crashed through the closet doors. A sick chomping and slurping came from the mass of tangled limbs. Another vampire, then. The days when I would have been shocked were long past.</p><p>I turned back to Cassidy, who still lay bleeding on the floor. He coughed a bit and blood sprayed into the air—though whether it was his or someone else’s was anyone’s guess. His entire abdomen was laid open and his exposed organs reminded me of pulsing mincemeat. I padded over and carefully laid down against his side with my chin resting on his shoulder. He reached over with his other hand and patted my head weakly.</p><p>“’S good t’ see yeh, Jyoonipurr,” he mumbled.<br/>~~~~~<br/>Jesse didn’t let us rest long before he nudged me in the shoulder with his foot. “Help me with Cass,” he said. I nodded my wolfy head and shifted back to my human form for the first time in many days. My side was still bleeding where the invader had stabbed me, but the pain was manageable; I was fairly sure his knife had glanced off a rib. My hands and feet were stained black with filth, and the rest of me was streaked and crusted with dirt. I ran a hand through my hair and a shower of grit and bits of leaves rained to the floor. “Or…you could get cleaned up first…” Jesse added, seeming embarrassed.</p><p>I ignored him and dug around in the kitchen drawers until I found a dish towel. I handed it to Cassidy and he pressed it to his stomach, groaning deeply. It soaked through with blood almost immediately. I blanched and looked up to Jesse, beginning to panic. He crossed to the fridge, stepping over Cassidy’s legs, and pulled a blood bag from the fridge. He tossed it to me and I fumbled it for a moment before getting it open. I held the tube to Cassidy’s lips and slipped my other hand under his head, supporting him gently. He gulped greedily until the bag was empty and then let his head fall back against my hand. The bleeding had slowed, but the wound was still wide open.</p><p>I looked at Jesse again, panicked. “Do you have bandages?!”</p><p>“No…” Jesse’s brow furrowed, then he crossed again to the dryer in the hall and plunged his arm in, returning with a clean-ish white sheet. He tore it into wide strips and joined me on the floor. He grabbed Cassidy’s shoulders and wrenched him upright. Cassidy screamed, and I glared at Jesse. He was unmoved. “Get the bandages on him!” I turned my attention to Cassidy, wrapping the strips of sheet around his middle as tightly as I dared while he groaned, quiet and continuous. The blood was already seeping through as I tied off the last one. Jesse pulled Cassidy’s arm over his shoulders and stood, hauling Cassidy with him. Before I could step forward to help the vampire in the housecoat was back, slipping under Cassidy’s other arm and helping Jesse support him to a bedroom, where they carefully laid him on the bed. Jesse left, but the older man stayed and gently pulled the blanket up around Cassidy’s chest, then perched on the edge of the bed, watching over Cassidy tenderly.</p><p>I hovered in the doorway anxiously, unsure of what more I could do. Once he was settled, Cassidy caught my eye and flashed a crooked grin. “’M alright. Go ‘n get yerself washed up, yeh look like utter shite.” I snorted a surprised laugh and left them to wash up.<br/>~~~~~<br/>I stood in the shower until the water ran cold and the duct tape and gauze I’d slapped over my wound was sodden and peeling. When I emerged into the steamy bathroom I found someone had left clothes on the vanity for me—Tulip’s, probably—and a towel. I dried and yanked on the leggings and t-shirt, trying to get reaccustomed to the constricting feeling of clothing. The shower had calmed me, and as I stepped into the hall I finally took in my surroundings. The apartment had potential, with bright spacious rooms and incredibly high ceilings, but it had been sadly neglected. Paint was peeling everywhere, and the drywall was cracked and flaking. Dust had settled on every horizontal surface and grimy smudges covered the vertical. On top of this, of course, blood spatter covered the walls and one would have to hurdle over dead bodies to get from room to room.</p><p>The apartment was currently crawling with police and detectives. I waited for one of them to ask me what I had seen, as police do, but none of them did. I realized quickly that Jesse had ‘recruited’ them to help find out who had attacked and why. As I stood in the hall watching, someone’s arms wrapped around me from behind. I started and turned, but my face split into a grin as I saw Tulip. I threw my arms around her and hugged her tightly.</p><p>“How did you find us? And how are you alive? And what the hell happened here?!” She fired off questions faster than I could even begin to answer, and I laughed.</p><p>“I tracked you, and I was outside of Annville, and I don’t really know. I just showed up and heard gunfire.” I hugged her again tightly. “I’m really glad to see you, Tulip.”</p><p>Jesse emerged from Cassidy’s room, looking distracted. “Tulip,” he said shortly, jerking his head toward what was presumably their bedroom door. She pulled away from our hug gently and followed him. The door closed firmly behind them.</p><p>I poked my head into Cassidy’s doorway. His eyes were closed, but his brow was wrinkled as if he was in pain even asleep. The early morning light glared through the window, lancing bright sunbeams across the bed, and I hurried over to yank the curtains closed. They made a grating noise against the curtain rod that made me cringe and freeze—I hadn’t wanted to wake him.</p><p>“Leave it,” he murmured from behind me. I turned, an apologetic look on my face.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>He gestured vaguely at the window. “Th’ curtains. I like the natural light.”</p><p>My eyebrows shot up. “You’re crazy.”</p><p>He put on a mock-frail voice—though I wasn’t sure how much of it was an act. “Would yeh deny a dyin’ man his last wish?”</p><p>I rolled my eyes. “You’re not <em>dying,</em> Cassidy,” I snapped as I yanked one of the curtains back. Sunlight spilled across his blanketed legs and he closed his eyes again, making a small hum of contentment. I joined him gingerly on the bed, slow and careful not to jostle him. He opened his arm to me, and when I hesitated he grabbed me around the shoulders and pulled me down with surprising strength until I was lying curled against him with my cheek resting against his collarbone. I pressed my face against his chest and sighed happily as his scent filled my nose.</p><p>“Now,” he said, settling even further back into the pillows. “Tell me where yeh been.”</p>
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<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Long Time No See</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper and Cassidy catch up. Jesse catches Juniper and Cassidy.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sunbeams grew shorter and then disappeared completely as we swapped stories. I started with waking up to the explosion in Annville—the terrible fear that he was alone and burning, and then finding their trail. He laughed when I told him about being tusked by the peccary, and I scowled at him and was sorely tempted to poke his bandages. When I told him about finding the dead man—Mike, Cassidy supplied—and raiding his oxycontin, he groaned longingly. He was able to give a name to the dreadful scent I’d followed when I lost theirs—the Saint of Killers.</p><p>“He’s a downright unpleasant bloke, chopped off all m’ fingers jus’ because Jesse was a bit late,” Cassidy explained, wiggling his whole and unblemished fingers demonstrably. “Soulless fella sent from Hell to kill Jesse, if yeh c’n believe it. But Jesse sent ‘im back, don’t you worry.” I blinked, but was past the point of believing that anything could be exaggeration at this point.</p><p>He got a kick out of my description of trying to dodge drunk dog lovers as I hunted through New Orleans, though his laughter ended in a pained groan. Tulip peered into the room around that point, and I stretched out a hand to her. After a quick glance over her shoulder—for Jesse, I assumed—she joined us, stretching out on Cassidy’s other side. I rested my hand on his belly, palm up, and she took it, squeezing gently. I ended with turning up just as the tactical team in white had, and following them inside.</p><p>“So…now I’m here,” I finished lamely. I squeezed Tulip’s hand and lifted my head to look at Cassidy. “Now you two. What’s happened? How did <em>you</em> get out of Annville?” And then, extremely belatedly. “Did Jesse call down God?”</p><p>Tulip and Cassidy eyed each other, as if each was waiting for the other to begin. After a long pause, they both began a barrage of rapid-fire sentence fragments, and I got the impression that they were competing to see who could remember the most dramatic act.</p><p>“Angel hands worked a treat—”</p><p>“God just <em>left</em>—”</p><p>“—maced his balls—”</p><p>“—made me siphon gas through INTESTINE—”</p><p>“--’N this mad bouncer didn’t know th’ three second rule. <em>Everyone</em> knows the three second rule!—"</p><p>“—saw Annville on the news—”</p><p>“—but I plied him with drugs ‘n sex—”</p><p>My laughter shook the bed. “Stop! Stop. Slow down. One at a time, please.”</p><p>Over the course of hours, with many interruptions and contradictions, they pieced together the story. We only took brief breaks to grab snacks and refill Cassidy’s mug of blood, but even so it was early evening by the time they’d caught me up.</p><p>Tulip and Cassidy were staring at me, waiting for my reaction. I kept my eyes down, studiously tracing one of Cassidy’s tattoos—a woman’s face in profile. “Why…” I had to swallow hard before I could continue. “Why didn’t you wait for me?” A long silence followed my question. When I finally made myself raise my gaze, Cassidy and Tulip were looking at each other, silent communication flowing between them.</p><p>It was Cassidy who finally spoke, though he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “The padre said findin’ God was the most important t’ing, ‘n you could catch up. He used the Word on us. Then when we heard about Annville…well, we all t’ought the worst.” He squeezed me hard around the shoulders. “If we’d known, if we coulda…we’d have waited.”</p><p>I managed a wavering smile. “I know.” I wished I couldn’t believe that Jesse had made them leave me behind. Our relationship  wasn’t what it had been at the start, but I hadn’t realized he cared so little.</p><p>We lay in silence for a few minutes before Tulip stood. “Jesse thinks those guys are gonna come back tonight. I wanna be ready.” She strode from the room without further explanation, and we heard the apartment door close a moment later. I went back to tracing Cassidy’s tattoos lightly, and he closed his eyes under my touch.</p><p>“The other vampire here…” I began a few minutes later, “He’s the one who turned you?” My voice was small; I wasn’t sure if there was some kind of etiquette around asking these things.</p><p>Cassidy’s eyes flicked open, eyeing me carefully. “My son. Dennis.” He was watching for my reaction, I knew. I turned my attention back to tracing his tattoos, keeping my face passive.</p><p>“How old is Dennis?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light. Cassidy flipped his arm over so I could continue my ministrations.</p><p>“Oh, he was born…1946 was it? So that’d put him at…” He went silent, screwing up his face and mouthing numbers.</p><p>“Seventy.” I was able to maintain my blank face, but my voice cracked a bit, giving me away. “How long has he been a vampire?”</p><p>Cassidy made a show of checking a watch that wasn’t there. “’Bout sixteen hours it’d be, now.” My eyebrows twitched up, but I controlled them with some effort. “You’re allowed to be freaked out, yeh know,” he said, sounding exasperated.</p><p>I smiled bashfully. “I know! I just…figure you get enough of that from the humans. We monsters have to stick together.” I growled playfully and very gently closed my teeth on his shoulder.</p><p>He gasped sharply and I jerked back, afraid I had hurt him. But when I looked up at him he was gazing steadily at me in a way that made my heart stutter.</p><p>“Yeh’d best mind yerself, lass. A man could get the wrong idea.” His voice was husky, with a bit of a growl.</p><p>A slow, shy smile crossed my face as I understood. I lowered my lips to his shoulder again and skimmed them across his skin until they rested over his tattooed ‘Q’. “Or a man could get exactly the right idea…?” I nipped his skin hard and he groaned deeply, his head falling back against the pillow. Before I could strike again he’d yanked me closer and captured my lips with his, his tongue thrusting into my mouth. The scent and closeness of him made me giddy and I moaned into his mouth. Trying to be mindful of his injuries I straddled his lap. I could feel his hardness through the blankets and whined with wanting. I felt Cassidy’s fingers slip under the hem of my shirt and begin to yank it upward.</p><p>“You ready? Could be any—” We froze. Jesse was standing in the doorway, radio in hand, looking mortified. Cassidy smoothed my shirt back into place. My face flamed, but Cass seemed unbothered.</p><p>“Ready when you are, padre.” He began trying to sit up, eliciting a groan—but not the fun kind. I gently but firmly pushed him back down onto his pillow.</p><p>“You aren’t ready for <em>shit</em>, Cassidy. You stay. I have this.” He looked sulky but didn’t try to get up again, sipping from his mug of blood instead. I climbed off the bed and stripped to shift—putting more thought into it than I normally did. I held Cassidy’s eyes as I stripped off my shirt, trying for a sultry expression, though I didn’t have much practice. I grazed my fingertips over my breasts and down my sides to my waistband and shimmied out of the clinging leggings.</p><p>I must have landed somewhere close to seductive at least, because Cassidy was staring hungrily. “You’re killin’ me, Juniper.”</p><p>I grinned down at him, quite pleased to have the upper hand for once. “Back in a jiff,” I said, before turning to strut from the room. As I closed the door behind me I heard a soft curse, and I laughed.</p>
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<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Part of You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The gang anticipates another attack from the Men in White.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I lay parallel to the apartment door, along the base of the grimy kitchen cabinets. I was masked from the sight of anyone standing in the doorway, but was perfectly positioned to listen and watch, and attack if needed. It had been several hours of listening and watching, though, and the most exciting thing that had happened was a cleaner arriving and going to work on the bloodstained kitchen. Jesse was pacing the apartment, peering out windows, unable to stay still. I yawned hugely and rested my chin on my paws, and he glared at me. I lifted my lip for a moment, but turned my attention back to the closed door and the hallway. There was no sound inside but the scratching of rats and the snoring of tenants. Outside I could hear drunken revelers and strains of music from what sounded like twenty different clubs. I yawned again.</p><p>A tremendous wall of noise crashed through the apartment, and I bolted to my feet, ears flattened to my head. It took me a moment to realize that the noise was music—it felt as though a full orchestra was stationed between my ears. Jesse and Cassidy were yelling, adding to the cacophony. Tulip had her gun trained on the ceiling, though her eyes appeared unfocused and glazed. The cleaner was the only one unbothered, continuing his slow and steady work. I turned my attention back to the door, trying to focus on any sound coming from the hall. There was a chaos of squealing feedback and yelling from Jesse’s radio as he brushed passed me into the hall. I shook my head, growling softly with frustration. If they would just let me <em>focus</em>—</p><p>My ears were ringing. A gun had gone off just behind me. I stumbled around slowly, disoriented by the noise. The cleaner was writhing on the ground groaning, blood soaking through his uniform. Tulip held a massive revolver, still aimed at him, the barrel smoking. Jesse and Cassidy rushed into the kitchen.</p><p>“He’s one of them Jesse, that’s what I was trying to tell you! He’s got a gun!” Tulip kept her gun on him, though I doubted the cleaner was a danger to anyone just then. Jesse reached behind the cleaner’s back and pulled out a grey spray bottle. “No no no. No! I swear, I saw—” She was beginning to stutter, getting desperate. Jesse radioed to the cops that we’d need an ambulance. Tulip lowered her head, defeated. “I’m gonna…go keep a lookout.” She left the room and I trotted after her, calling on my human form. I slipped into Cassidy’s room to get dressed before I gently tapped on the door to Jesse and Tulip’s bedroom. It wasn’t latched, and it swung open with a soft creak as I knocked. Tulip jumped. She had been standing at the window, the gun clutched to her chest. She looked reduced—smaller than herself.</p><p>“You okay?” I asked. I took an uncertain step into the room.</p><p>“I <em>know</em> what I saw!” She spat it fiercely, but as she did her face crumpled. I dashed across the room and crushed her in a hug, heedless of the gun in her hands. She lowered her head to rest her forehead on my shoulder. “I hate this place. I feel like I’m goin’ crazy. And Jesse’s…not there. He is, but he isn’t. You know?”</p><p>I squeezed her tight. “I know.” I guided her to the bed gently and sat her down. “But I’m here, and Cassidy’s here. I don’t know what the fuck’s going on, but we’ll manage it together, right?”</p><p>She nodded, already looking a bit more composed. “The cleaner okay?”</p><p>“I’m…sure he’ll be fine,” I said, not sure of that at all. “Are <em>you</em> okay?”</p><p>She shrugged one shoulder, staring blankly at the wall. “Yeah, I’m good. I’m always good.”</p><p>I hesitated, but I doubted I would get any more out of her. “Try to get some rest, Tulip.”</p><p>She nodded, still staring at the wall. “Yeah. Yeah, you too.”</p><p>I left the room and gently closed the door behind me.<br/>~~~~~<br/>Cassidy was making his painful way down the hall to his room when I emerged, leaning heavily on the wall. I slipped under his arm to support him.</p><p>“You were supposed to stay in bed,” I grumbled.</p><p>“What, ‘n miss all the fun?” He was aiming for levity, but his breathing was harsh and a thin film of sweat coated his forehead.</p><p>“I feel like we just had a conversation about you not getting hurt.” I was panting when we finally made it to the bed. He stretched out with a groan and I pulled the blankets up.</p><p>“Nah, can’t say as I recall that. Must’ve been some other devilishly handsome, devastatin’ly charmin’ Irish vampire.” He flashed his crooked grin.</p><p>“Hm. Yeah, you’re right. They’re everywhere these days.” I started to leave the room, then glared back at him. “<em>Stay</em>.” He raised his hands in surrender and made a show of pulling the blanket up to his chin. I went to the kitchen and filled a clean mug with blood from the fridge, distantly amazed at how quickly this had grown to feel normal. I brought the cup to him in his room and perched on the edge of the bed. “So…what now?”</p><p>He drank deeply before answering. “Jesse t’inks somethin’s coming. Wants us to lay low, stay put, wait ‘em out.”</p><p>I nodded, mulling this over. “Well…do you know if Dennis has any extra blankets? I can take the couch, if that’s okay.”</p><p>Cassidy looked scandalized at the suggestion. “Now listen, firs’ly, that couch is lumpy as anythin’, ‘n you’re talkin’ to a man who grew up sleepin’ on a straw-filled sack. <em>Second</em>, no, I don’ know if Dennis has extra blankets. <em>You</em>—” He slid over as far as he was able, wincing at the effort. “—will be bunkin’ wit’ me.”</p><p>I blushed. “Are you sure?”</p><p>He patted the bed beside him aggressively. “S’long as yeh don’t mind th’ snorin’, I’m sure.”</p><p>I crawled under the covers and resumed the position we’d been in for most of the day, curled against his side with my head on his chest. He absently traced the scar that ran from my elbow to my shoulder from our fight with the angels—Fiore and LeBlanc, I now knew—and I closed my eyes.</p><p>“Still say I coulda handled this on my own,” he murmured.</p><p>I scoffed without opening my eyes. “Please. I leave you alone for a couple weeks and you go and lose half your organs. You’re helpless without me.”</p><p>He breathed a laugh. “Absolutely useless.” He went silent for a long time—for Cassidy—and the tracing of his fingers up and down my scar lulled me into a half-doze. “Juniper?” I roused myself with effort and peered up at him. His face was uncharacteristically serious, and he wouldn’t look at me, though his fingers never ceased their gentle tracing along my arm. “D’yeh remember th’ things I told you, the mornin’ after we were out drinkin’?”</p><p>My brow furrowed as I thought back. “About—” I caught myself and lowered my voice. “About Tulip?” He nodded once. “Yes, I remember.”</p><p>He inhaled deeply. “That hasn’t changed. An’ for…someone like me…I don’ know if it <em>can</em> change. I care about yeh very much, an’ I’d like for us to be somethin’, if yeh want it. I just…wanted t’ be honest with yeh first.” His hand stilled on my arm and he looked down at me, his eyes searching.</p><p>I thought for what felt like a long time, rolling his words over in my mind like an ice cube on my tongue. It was hardly fairy tale romance but…having part of him was better than having none, wasn’t it? It could be enough. Maybe.</p><p>I kissed his stubbly cheek lightly. “I want it. Thank you for being honest with me, Cassidy.”  </p><p>He caught my chin and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips. “Always, <em>mo stór</em>.”</p><p>I lowered my head to rest on his strangely silent chest and drifted off in minutes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Waiting Game</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The gang settles in for the long haul, Juniper settles in to her new arrangement with Cassidy.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cassidy’s prodigious snoring woke me as the morning sunlight illuminated the closed curtains, making them glow. We’d shifted during the night so that we were spooning, and on each strident exhale his breath tickled my neck. I smiled sleepily as I felt him, hard against my back. The sensation had me instantly aroused, and I couldn’t help but grind lightly against his length. The snoring stuttered and stopped. I rubbed against him again and he groaned softly in his sleep. Enjoying myself now, I rolled over to face him and kissed him lightly. His hand found my hip and yanked me closer as he deepened the kiss.</p><p>His eyes flicked open, hazy with sleep but already dark with lust. “Good mornin’,” he murmured. His hand slid around to squeeze my ass, and I shivered deliciously as his fingers traced delicate patterns on the back my thigh.</p><p>“Hi,” I whispered. I trailed my fingers down his chest, lightly over his bandages, to the sharp edge of his hip bone. His hips gave a little involuntary buck, and I breathed a laugh. “Do you…want to pick up where we left off last night?” Despite his obvious wanting and our intimate position, I felt suddenly shy and blushed.</p><p>“Mm…I’d like that very much, if you’re amenable.” He took my hand loosely and very gently guided it to his swollen cock, his eyes glued to my face, watching for any hint of hesitation. I wrapped my hand around him and squeezed lightly, running my palm once up and down his length. He moaned throatily, his eyes closing.</p><p>I hesitated for a moment, eyeing his bloody bandages. “We won’t…hurt you?”</p><p>He yanked them away from his body, craning his neck to look down at his belly. “Nope. I’m good ‘s new, look.” He pulled at them harder, and then impatiently tore them off, revealing unblemished pink flesh beneath.</p><p>“<em>Good</em>.” I shoved his shoulder until he was lying flat on his back and straddled his lap. I couldn’t help but grind against him, and he groaned and reached for my waistband. I grabbed his hands, stilling them. “Not yet,” I murmured. I leaned over to kiss him deeply, ending with a nip of his lower lip that made him gasp. I trailed my lips down his body, planting a kiss there, a bite there. With each bite I felt his cock throb against my belly, and a lusty growl escaped me. I ended at his hip, tracing the curve of his pelvis before sinking my teeth in hard enough to bruise. He hissed and his hips bucked wildly. I hummed in amusement against his thigh.</p><p>I turned my attention to his cock. It stood fully erect, the head swollen and nearly purple, with a drop of precum glistening on the tip. I kissed it off and he groaned as his cock jumped. His hands fisted the sheets as I ran the tip of my tongue up the length of him to circle his head.</p><p>“<em>Oh</em> <em>mo dhia</em>…yeh’re killin’ me.” He spoke in a ragged whisper, his breath coming in short gasps.</p><p>I couldn’t wait any more and took his dick in my mouth, my eyes on his face as I slid my lips down his length. He released a long, throaty moan and he grabbed at my hair, his long fingers scrambling for purchase in my short curls. His eyes were closed, his brow furrowed, his face taut with pleasure.</p><p>I bobbed my head in long, slow strokes, watching in fascination as a flush bloomed in his chest and spread up his neck to his face. When his breaths began to quicken and his fists clenched in my hair I released him.</p><p>His eyes popped open and he frowned. “Why…?” A slow smile spread across his face as he saw me stripping off the borrowed shirt and leggings. I straddled his lap again, moaning as his cock brushed against my slick folds. He held out a hand to stop me. “D’we…should we…condom?”</p><p>I shook my head, impatient. “Werewolves can only get pregnant with other werewolves.”</p><p>“Huh. Handy.” He grinned mischievously. “Carry on, then.”</p><p>I breathed a laugh that turned into a gasp as I lowered myself onto him. He grabbed my hips and his fingers dug in hard enough to hurt; I wished he’d hold me tighter.</p><p>I braced my hands on his chest and thrust against him hard; the bedframe gave a hideously loud creak. The normal noises of the apartment went silent, and I pressed my hands over my mouth, giggling helplessly. Cassidy snorted with laughter and sat up—his movement inside me made me moan again.</p><p>He kissed me lightly on the shoulder and then bit me gently. “Let me. I’ve conquered many a creaky bed in my time.” Before I could respond he had scooped one hand under my ass and the other behind my back and laid me on the bed, propping himself over me. “Yeh okay?” I nodded breathlessly and he entered me again, moving slowly at first but quickly increasing his rhythm. His body barely moved, and the bed was silent, but the jerking of his hips had me squirming and whimpering beneath him. I clung to the bedframe behind my head with one hand and grabbed his ass with the other, guiding his thrusts as I bucked to meet him. His forehead was wrinkled in concentration, his eyes closed as he fucked me. Our breaths came in short pants, unintentionally synchronous. I moaned deeply and he shushed me without missing a beat. I sank my teeth into his forearm to muffle myself and he groaned in response.</p><p>“If yeh keep doin’ that,” he panted, “I’m gonna cum right now.”</p><p>I released my hold on his forearm and pulled him closer. He kissed me bruisingly, panting into my mouth. When we broke the kiss I ran my nose down his neck to the muscle of his shoulder and bit hard. He groaned sharply and his rhythm stuttered and then broke. I felt hot cum fill me and moaned in satisfaction as I fell back on the bed. He collapsed on top of me and we lay in a tangle of sweating, shaking parts. I realized with a start that blood was welling in the toothmarks I’d left in his shoulder. I dabbed at it with the edge of a discarded bandage.</p><p>“Sorry about that,” I murmured, suddenly bashful. He shook his head.</p><p>“Mm…don’t be. ‘S nothin’.” He already sounded drowsy, and he sighed contentedly as I ran my fingers through his sweaty curls, scratching his scalp lightly. “…’M I a werewolf now? Were…pire? Vampwolf?”</p><p>“Nah. That’s only if it happens while we’re wolves. I think.”</p><p>“You <em>t’ink</em>.” He sounded concerned, but not enough to lift his head while I was toying with his hair.</p><p>“Well, we don’t <em>usually</em> go around biting people when we’re humans…I’m like…98% sure that you’re not a werepire.” This seemed enough reassurance for him, and he began to doze again. “I think Jesse has a point, you know,” I said quietly.</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“Staying put is <em>definitely</em> a good idea.”</p><p>The bed resumed its creaking as our laughter shook it.<br/>~~~~~<br/>We drowsed in bed for several hours before hunger roused me. I wriggled out from under Cassidy’s sleeping form and he stretched luxuriously when the motion woke him. He turned his head to eye me as I pulled my clothes on.</p><p>“Where’re yeh goin’?” His voice was thick with sleep.</p><p>“I need to shower. And then food.” My stomach gave a loud rumble as I responded.</p><p>He was immediately alert and swung his legs around to sit at the edge of the bed. “D’yeh want company?”</p><p>“We should probably try to maintain some kind of modesty,” I responded, grinning. I kissed the top of his head and made to leave, but he pulled me back for a proper deep kiss, making my heart pound. When I pulled away again he spanked me lightly and I jumped and laughed.</p><p>“Don’ use all th’ hot water again,” he called after me as I headed to the bathroom.<br/>~~~~~<br/>Some kind soul had left clothes on the bathroom counter again when I stepped out of the shower—I’d completely forgotten I had no clothes (or other belongings) until I was already started. I got dressed and peered in the mirror—Cassidy’s corgi t-shirt and a pair of drawstring sweats. I suspected that I was being claimed, or he was showing off, or both. I liked it.</p><p>When we reached the kitchen, someone—Tulip was my guess, based on her smug grin and Jesse’s total lack of interest in our lives—had left an unlit cigarette and a cup of steaming coffee at two empty places at the table. Cassidy lit his and puffed contentedly, completely unabashed, while I blushed and grabbed the cream and sugar for my coffee.</p><p>“So, y’all sleep alright?” Tulip asked, a sly smile on her face. She was obviously enjoying my embarrassment. “Sounded like you were tossing and turning in there or somethin’.”</p><p>“Nup, we slep’ fine, that this mornin’ was the sound of us fuckin’,” Cassidy replied very casually. I choked on my coffee.</p><p>Jesse wheeled from where he’d been sitting at the window with binoculars pressed to his eyes. His hair was uncharacteristically unkept and dark bags circled his eyes, which were crazed. “<em>Glad you two are enjoying yourselves!</em>” he hissed, his voice full of venom.</p><p>I flinched, but Cassidy took his temper in stride. “Thank yeh, padre, we enjoyed ourselves very much.” He lifted his coffee mug in a toast before taking a deep swig, gagging, and dumping in sugar.</p><p>The rest of breakfast passed in silence other than the crackly ‘all clear’s that came from Jesse’s radio. Tulip left the table first and began pacing from room to room, her eyes vacant.</p><p>Cassidy was still working on his cigarette. “So. Padre. What’s the plan?”</p><p>“Stay put. Keep watch. They’ll be back.” His voice sounded detached and he didn’t move his binoculars from the window.</p><p>“Right. T’rillin’.” He took a last drag on the smoke and crushed it under his boot. He turned to me and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Shall we?”</p><p>I laughed. “Later. I want to work on making this place liveable.” I left the table and began rummaging under the sink for cleaning supplies—they were sadly lacking.</p><p>“Liveable! It is liveable! Yeh’re livin’ in it right now!” I wasn’t sure if he was more stung by my rejection or my assessment of the apartment. I gave up on finding proper cleaners and filled a small bucket with steaming water and dish soap.</p><p>I returned to the table and kissed him hard, pulling back when his hands started to roam. “Later. I promise.”<br/>~~~~~<br/>I worked on the kitchen all day, scrubbing what must have been decades of grime from every surface. When that was done I went through the pantries and the fridge and got rid of all the expired food—which was most of it. I swept and mopped, and then mopped twice more when Jesse’s Genesis-ed police came stomping through the kitchen in their filthy work boots. After many pointed glares and sighs, Jesse ordered the police to remove their boots before entering.</p><p>It was after dark when I finally decided the kitchen was acceptable. I drained my last bucket of soapy water and dragged myself back to the room Cassidy and I shared, collapsing on my back on the bed.</p><p>Cassidy appeared at the door instantaneously, wearing a rakish grin. “It’s later.”</p><p>I laughed and opened my arms to him. “It is!”</p><p>He threw himself on top of me and the sudden weight made the air <em>whoosh</em> out of my lungs—and into his mouth, as he was already kissing me. I moved to strip his shirt off but he caught both of my hands in one of his, pinning them above my head.</p><p>He didn’t break the kiss until I was gasping and writhing beneath him, then he placed another light kiss on my collarbone. “’M I right in thinkin’ that you didn’ cum this mornin’?” I flushed and nodded. “Well <em>that</em> is a sad oversight on my part, ‘n I intend to remedy that right now, if you’ll let me.”</p><p>“Okay.” My voice was a breathless whisper.</p><p>He used his free hand to lift the hem of my shirt to trace his fingers lightly down my stomach and I gasped. He lowered his head to brush kisses against my chest, and the softness of his lips contrasting with his scratchy stubble made me hum in pleasure. His lips suddenly closed around one of my nipples and gave a gentle tug, with the barest graze of his teeth. I arched up into him, my eyes closing of their own volition. He trailed kisses across my chest and took my other nipple in his mouth while he used his free hand to deftly push down the waistband of my pants—I kicked them off once they passed my knees.</p><p>He began running his fingers up and down my thighs and my legs fell open for him. His fingers were everywhere—my thighs, my stomach, my breasts—except where I most desperately wanted him. My hands fisted and flexed against nothing, still trapped in his hold, and I thrust my hips against the air, desperate for his touch. I heard him chuckle and snapped my eyes open to glare at him.</p><p>“Mea—” The word was cut off in a gasp as he slipped his fingers between my folds and found my swollen clit. His thumb rubbed slow circles over it and he filled me with two fingers, then three. I writhed against his hand, trying to fuck myself harder.</p><p>His forehead was furrowed with concentration, his lips drawn back from his teeth. “Jaysis, yeh’re wet.” His voice was a low growl that sent electric currents down my spine.</p><p>My moans were coming faster and louder as I thrust myself against him. I was beginning to feel the mounting pressure that I knew would lead to my orgasm, my toes curling against the bed, when he pulled away from me. The sudden emptiness made me whine in frustration.</p><p>He chuckled huskily. “Turnabout’s fair play, <em>mo stór</em>.” He released my hands and kissed his way down my chest and stomach, taking a moment to trace along my hipbones with his nose.</p><p>Suddenly I was filled with him, his fingers stretching me in the most delicious way. At the same moment his tongue found my clit, and the combination of the slippery pressure and his fingers inside me made me see stars. I grabbed onto his hair and fisted it roughly; his groaning response matched my own moans. His hand and his mouth worked in perfect synch, each stroke of his fingers matched by a swirl of his tongue.</p><p>“<em>Ohh</em>, Cass…” I whimpered, squirming helplessly. “<em>Oh</em>, please…” I could feel my body tightening, my thighs clenching around his ears, my fingers pulling relentlessly at his hair. “Don’t stop, <em>please</em> don’t stop…” My breath came in ragged, whimpering pants. “<em>Cassidy!</em>”</p><p>My pleasure tipped over into orgasm, bright waves of euphoria pulsing through my body. I shuddered as its waves washed over me and collapsed to the bed. Cassidy slowed his strokes gradually and laid a gentle kiss on my swollen, sensitive clit—even the light pressure made me shiver and squeak. He crawled up the bed to lay beside me, watching my chest heave with a smug smile.</p><p>“For all yer talk o’ maintainin’ modesty, yeh’re quite loud, yeh know.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>My Christmas gift to anyone who has made it this far. Thank you for being patient!<br/>As always, constructive critique is welcome!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Domesticity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jesse's lockdown of the apartment continues.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I took a long sip of coffee and sat my mug down with a clunk. “Teach me to fight.”</p><p>Tulip’s face split in an eager grin, and Cassidy choked on his poptart. “You c’n already fight!”</p><p>“I can fight as a <em>wolf</em>. I want to be able to fight in this body too. Right now it’s useless.” Cassidy still looked doubtful, so I pressed on. “Look, the white suit guys are expecting a big wolf now. What if they come back with like, anti-dog weapons? Like a can full of coins? Or chocolate?”</p><p>Cassidy considered this, nodding slowly. He stuffed the rest of his poptart into his mouth and stood. “Alright,” he said, spraying crumbs across the table. “But I’m gonna teach yeh to fight dirty.”</p><p>I bounced after him to the living room, where we shoved the furniture back against the walls to make a large space in the middle of the room. Tulip followed more sedately, stopping in the doorway to watch.</p><p>“Now th’ firs’ thing yeh wanna do,” Cassidy began, shaking out his long legs, “is get yer weight nice ‘n low—so they can’t tip y’over, see.” He dropped into a half-squat that looked to me like a frog impression. I hesitantly mirrored his pose. “Then, yeh wanna get yer fists up, protect yer face ‘n whatnot.” He raised his fists in front of him, and I had to work very hard not to laugh as I realized he was the spitting image of every ‘fighting Irish’ stereotype. I raised my fists.</p><p>Tulip snorted from the doorway. “Cass, you are gonna get this girl killed.”</p><p>“Oh, I am, am I?” He pivoted in his stance to face her. “Go on then. Try t’ hit me. Try—<em>onhh!</em>” Faster than I could track her foot had lashed out and taken out one of his knees. His leg collapsed under him and her other foot flashed out to kick him in the ribs, sending him rolling. “I wasn’ ready!”</p><p>She gave him a hand up. “I love ya, Cass, but you fight like someone who knows they won’t die. Juniper can die.”</p><p>Cassidy looked poised to protest but then simply nodded and got out of the way. Tulip joined me in the middle of the room, a tranquil smile on her face, and proceeded to soundly kick my ass.  <br/>~~~~<br/>We fell into an easy pattern in our days at Dennis’ apartment. Cassidy and I would wake up together and have sleepy, luxurious sex, we’d eat a bit of breakfast, I’d clean for a couple of hours, and Tulip would beat me up in the living room. It was simple, and a bit boring, and the fact that we couldn’t leave the apartment still chafed, but was nice. We carried on this way for several days, with the biggest change being that my bruises were slightly less as the days wore on, and Tulip would even have one here or there when we were done our sparring. But something changed.</p><p>I slept late one morning—the beams of sunlight that came from the east barely reached the night table when I woke up. I stretched luxuriously, relishing how much larger the bed felt with just me in it.</p><p>My eyes popped open. Just me in it? A quick scan of the room revealed that Cassidy was absent. The bedroom door had been left cracked open, and I could hear hushed and urgent conversation coming from the living room. I padded in that direction, my head tilted, but couldn’t make out the words. When I peered around the corner Jesse, Tulip, and Cassidy jumped and Tulip slammed closed the laptop they’d been arguing over. Jesse quickly grabbed his binoculars and returned to the window while Cassidy and Tulip stared anywhere but at me.</p><p>“Is everything…okay?” I took a hesitant step into the room, unsure of whether I was wanted.</p><p>“Oh yeah!” Cassidy said quickly. “Yeah, yeah yeah, we jus’…got a tip about God bein’ on…MySpace…but it’s nothin’, didn’…pan out. One of them roleplayin’ bogs.”</p><p>“<em>Blogs</em>,” Tulip hissed, looking furious. Cassidy flapped a hand dismissively.</p><p>“O…kay. Does anyone want coffee?” Tulip’s hands were splayed over the laptop as if she was afraid it would spring open of its own volition, and she stared at me steadily in a way that indicated that I <em>definitely</em> wasn’t wanted.</p><p>“We’re good. There’s some left in the kitchen,” Jesse supplied. He surprised me by flashing me a smile. Something was wrong.</p><p>“Alright. Thanks.” I left the room, my throat feeling tight. Before I closed the door behind me I heard Jesse’s voice, low, clearly not meant to be heard.</p><p>“<em>It has to be today</em>.”<br/>~~~~~ <br/>Dennis was leaving as I entered the kitchen, fedora on and umbrella in hand. He flashed me an unsettling, too-toothy smile before heading out the door whistling. I poured myself a cup of coffee but couldn’t enjoy it, still trying to sort through what I’d seen and heard in the living room. Afterward I tried to get myself invested in cleaning the bathroom but found myself distractedly scrubbing the mirror long after it was clean.</p><p>Cassidy was at the stove thawing a blood bag when I went to find more paper towels. “Ev’rything alright, love?”</p><p>“Yep,” I said shortly. I gathered myself. <em>Breathe</em>. “What was that? In the living room?”</p><p>It seemed to take him a moment to realize what I meant. “Oh! That. It was nothin’, really. We were just—”</p><p>Someone cleared their throat behind us and we wheeled toward the hall. Tulip was standing there with her arms crossed, glaring daggers at Cassidy.</p><p>“Just…lookin’ at the God MySpace. Like I said.” He was suddenly very busy breaking up chucks of frozen blood in the pan.</p><p>“Ah. Okay.” I wheeled and got back to work in the bathroom, scrubbing the toilet as though it had personally offended me.</p><p>Furious whispers erupted in the kitchen behind me.<br/>~~~~~<br/>The bathroom was nearly spotless—at least up to the limits of my short reach—when there was a knock at the apartment door. My heart leaped to a gallop in my chest and I leaned out of the bathroom door, my eyes wide.</p><p>Jesse and Tulip were in the kitchen already, guns drawn. Cassidy was sitting at the table, smoking, the tension in his stance barely noticeable.</p><p>Jesse edged over to the intercom, his eyes never leaving the door. “<strong><em>Leave the package and go.</em></strong>” Even when Genesis wasn’t directed at me, it sent a shudder through my body. I heard a loud <em>thump</em> outside the door and rapid footsteps descending the steps. Jesse nodded to Cassidy, who joined him at the door. Tulip raised her gun. At some invisible signal, Jesse threw open the door and Cassidy leaped out into the hall to shove a gigantic box into the apartment. Jesse slammed and locked the door behind him and the three of them visibly relaxed.</p><p>Tulip turned to face me, beaming. “Surprise!”</p><p>I blinked. “…What?”</p><p>She grabbed a massive kitchen knife and sliced the box open. “All your stuff blew up with Annville, right? And I <em>know</em> you don’t wanna keep wearin’ Cass’s clothes—”</p><p>“Hey now!”</p><p>“So we ordered you new stuff!” She pulled the uppermost item out of the box—a t-shirt that read ‘Save a Vampire: Donate Blood’—and rolled her eyes at Cassidy.</p><p>I joined her on the floor, kneeling in front of the box. There were shoes and clothes—each had some idea of what I liked at least, though there was a clear divide between what Tulip had picked and what Cassidy had chosen. There were necessities, too—I was profoundly grateful to have my own toothpaste and toothbrush again. There was even a little collection of Kongs and Nylabones. Neatly folded at the very bottom of the box was a strappy white dress with sunflower print. I could feel my eyes getting misty and swallowed hard. When I looked up at Jesse, he was grinning bashfully from his post at the window.</p><p>“I owed you one. I didn’t forget.”</p><p>I hugged the dress to my body, grateful tears spilling down my cheeks. After how the people of Annville reacted to my secret, the assurance that I was wanted here, that I well and thoroughly belonged, was a balm I hadn’t known I needed.</p><p>The air rushed out of my lungs as Tulip threw her arms around me, and I returned her hug, laughing.</p><p>“Lemme get in there now,” Cassidy said, folding his long grasshopper legs to kneel with us and join the hug. “Padre!” he called with mock sternness, stretching a hand out to Jesse.</p><p>Jesse raised his eyes to the ceiling and edged over to pat my shoulder. “It’s good havin’ you around, Juniper.” Overcome by this grandiose show of emotion, he swept from the room to resume his watch. <br/>~~~~~<br/>Tulip and Cassidy helped me get my new things sorted, and then they surprised me by joining me in cleaning. Tulip cranked some Joni Mitchell and set to work patching holes in the drywall while Cassidy and I began scrubbing the walls—a blessing, since he could reach a great deal further up them than I could.</p><p>“Thick crust is superior to thin crust in every conceivable way! Sturdier base holds more toppings and thicker crust is better for dipping!” I was standing precariously on top of an ancient step-stool, sweeping cobwebs from the ceiling. Cassidy stood below me, holding my hips to stabilize me and judging my pizza preferences.</p><p>“If yeh get t’in crust then the crust to topping ratio is better <em>an</em>’ yeh can eat more pizza because yeh don’ fill up on bread!”</p><p>“Your better crust to topping ratio doesn’t help you when your crust integrity gives out and all your—” I crashed to the floor as a shudder coursed through my body.</p><p>“Jaysis, yer firs’ day wit’ legs, is it?” Cassidy teased, peering down at me. The convulsing continued, too hard for me to reply. His expression shifted rapidly from amusement to concern. Pain began lancing down my limbs, and realization gripped me. <em>Stupid, stupid, stupid! </em>“Juniper?”</p><p>There was a momentary respite between cramps and my hand shot out to grab his ankle. “Cass, what day—” Another round of convulsions locked my jaw and I tasted blood gushing from my tongue. “The <em>moon—</em>”</p><p>The color drained from his face. In two long steps he’d crossed to the window, wrenching his leg from my grasp. The itch of sprouting fur began at my crown and traveled downward in a wave.</p><p>“<em>DENNIS!</em>” Cassidy’s son appeared in the doorway, followed by Tulip and Jesse. They all gaped in horror.  “We need t’ move her, shut her in somewhere—” Cassidy cursed at Dennis’ uncomprehending face and stabbed a finger at me, then at the door of the nearest bedroom.</p><p>My bones began to shift and change shape, the cracking and creaking audible through the environment. Someone was moaning, low and continuous.</p><p>Dennis grabbed my ankles and grimaced as he felt the bones altering under my skin. Cassidy grasped my hands, his grip slipping as my fingers collapsed in on themselves and my nails curved into claws. Together they dragged me across the floor toward the open bedroom door. Mindless animal panic began to overtake my human thoughts like a dense, creeping fog and I thrashed and snapped with jaws that were still lengthening.</p><p>With a tremendous heave I sailed through the air, landing with a jarring thump and skidding across the floor. I gained my feet with an enraged snarl and lunged for the faces that still stared in at me through the door.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Cypress and Ash</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The fallout of Juniper not planning for the full moon.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My body ached all over. My right side felt like one giant bruise from shoulder to hip, and sharper pains raked along my shoulders and down my back. The smells of piss and alcohol were thick in my nose. I was lying on something hard—it felt like cement—and was covered with a scratchy blanket that smelled like mildew and vomit. As my mind drifted toward consciousness I realized there were people speaking nearby.</p><p>“—did you say you know this woman?” The voice sounded exceptionally disinterested.</p><p>“Our sister.” <em>No</em>. Nope.</p><p>“Yeah, she’s always into something…booze, horse tranquilizers, heroin…” I wished fervently for insentience to return, squeezing my eyes shut harder.</p><p>“<em>Ash.</em>”</p><p>There was a sharp metallic clanging and I resentfully opened my eyes. The cop—I was in jail, apparently—was squinting at me. “You know these two, miss?”</p><p>Cypress was standing well back from the bars, his arms crossed across his broad chest and face impassive. I’d forgotten how much he looked like our father—they had the same tall, imposing frame and dark hair, with startlingly blue eyes. He glared down at me, the picture of righteous judgment. Ash was leaning on the bars, grinning at me, an errant curl falling across his forehead. My twin and I favored my mother, short (extremely, in my case) with unruly tawny brown hair.</p><p>“I’ve never seen them before in my life,” I muttered flatly.</p><p>Cypress scowled. “<em>Juniper</em>.” His approximation of our father’s voice had improved. I sat up stiffly, withholding a groan—my side was purple with bruising, and when I craned my neck I could see long, scabbed over slashes that ran the length of my torso.</p><p>“My brothers,” I grumbled. The cop nodded and unlocked the cell door. Cypress tossed me a reflective rain poncho and gave a curt thank you to the cop before spinning on his heel to march out of the station. Ash waited for me, barely able to contain his amusement as I struggled into the filthy poncho and clambered to my feet to leave. As I stalked past him, he turned to the policeman, his eyes suddenly somber and sad.</p><p>“Pray for her, won’t you?”<br/>~~~~~<br/>Cypress was already in the drivers seat of the family pickup—a rusted out green beast with thirty years and five kids worth of mystery stains decorating the seats. His hands were clenched on the wheel and he kept his gaze forward as we approached. I made to climb in beside him, but Ash blocked my way.</p><p>“Nuh-uh, Junie. Runaways get the bucket seat.” He pointed at one of the small backless seats crammed into the back of the cab. I glowered but climbed into the back—there was a very, very small part of me that had to admit I’d earned it.</p><p>Once we were all settled, Ash twisted around in his seat to look at me. “So where did you leave the car?”</p><p>I blinked. “The car?”</p><p>His eyebrows raised. “The car that you took when you left? The car mama said I could have?”</p><p>I flushed. “<em>Firstly</em>, she said we’d be sharing it. And…” My flush deepened. “It died. In Texas.”</p><p>In the rear-view mirror I saw Cypress’ eyebrows draw deeper into a frown, and his nostrils flared.</p><p>Ash was scandalized. “You <em>killed </em>my car?!”</p><p>“It was <em>our car</em> and it’s not like I purposely did anything, it just <em>died!</em>”</p><p>Ash drew breath to answer, but Cypress cut him off. “<em>Enough</em>.”</p><p>Ash caught my eye and mimed Cypress’ ‘dad scowl’, and I had to press my lips together to stop myself from laughing.</p><p>We drove in silence for several minutes, the roar of the engine the only sound. I picked at my nails anxiously, watching the city give way to open wetland. “How did you find me?”</p><p>Cypress scoffed. “You didn’t exactly make it <em>hard</em>, Juniper. You were running around downtown in a major city.” He scowled at me in the rear-view mirror. “It wasn’t even a full moon!”</p><p>Ash snickered. “There were new posts up every five minutes.” He made his voice high and mocking. “<em>Is this your dog? Looks like a husky mix. Tried to catch! Not friendly!</em>” I groaned and covered my face with my hands. “And then last night,” he added with great relish. “You made it onto a <em>cryptid-spotting page!</em>” His face was alight with glee as he whipped out his phone. Cypress’ frown deepened further than I thought was possible.</p><p>“Is dad pissed?” My voice was barely audible above the truck’s grumble, but Cypress heard. His face softened for just a moment before the scowl fell back into place.</p><p>“Yes,” he answered shortly.</p><p>Ash handed me his phone with a great flourish, having selected a video posted the night before in a Facebook group, ‘NOLa CryptidSpotting’. The thumbnail was centered on two tourists in Mardi Gras gear, but I recognized Dennis’ apartment complex in the background. Already cringing, I hit play.</p><p>The first thirty seconds of the video consisted of the tourists drunkenly exclaiming how amazing New Orleans was and how many tits they’d seen and how drunk they already were and how much drunker they were going to get. In the middle of a very graphic description of a specific woman they’d seen on Bourbon street, I watched myself smash through the second story window of Dennis’ apartment. My mouth fell open. It was so odd to see the huge tawny wolf, and know it was me, but have no memory of what had happened. The wolf on screen hit the ground hard and rolled—watching it made my side ache all over again. Almost immediately it was up and running again, hurdling the wall that surrounded the apartment complex’s courtyard. Four faces appeared in the window behind it and my body sagged in relief. None of them were dead, at least. A voice rang out through the phone speaker—“<strong><em>Stop!</em></strong>”—and the truck jerked as Cypress involuntarily pumped the brakes. All of the humans on screen froze in their tracks, but the wolf was on its feet and bolting out of frame to disappear down an alley.</p><p>I handed the phone back to Ash, feeling cold. “How did I end up in jail?” I swallowed hard, and my voice was a hollow whisper. “Did I hurt anyone?”</p><p>Cypress shook his head once, keeping his eyes on the road. “Cops found you passed out in the street this morning. Picked you up for drunk and disorderly.” A hint of a grin curled one side of his mouth and I was able to relax a bit.</p><p>The rest of the two-hour ride passed more amicably, with Ash filling me in on all the latest news from our little community and Cypress correcting him and adding detail. I’d apparently begun a trend of running off to see the world, although most of the others who’d left weren’t quite so dramatic about it. One of the neighbor boys was dating a human and there’d been a great deal of excitement and preparation to act human when he brought his date for a visit. More of the types of things that passed for big news in small towns.</p><p>My anxiety rose as we turned onto the muddy dirt road that led to my home. The day I’d left had been horrible, the worst fight I’d ever had with anyone. And it was with my parents. My palms began to sweat when we came within view of the row of stilt homes and I saw my mama outside, watching the driveway anxiously, wringing her hands. She looked just like I remembered her, her curly greying hair trapped under a bandana, worry and laugh lines mapping her face, hands calloused from the labor that comes with running a home. The truck was still rolling to a stop but I was already out and flying, my feet slapping wetly against the mud, my poncho flapping in the breeze. I hit her running, and we stumbled backward into the side of the house. I pressed my face into her shoulder, my tears staining her worn cotton shirt. She held me like a child, stroking my hair soothingly and resting her cheek against my hair.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Mama.” I hugged her tighter, as if by squeezing her hard enough I could show her my regret and how much I’d missed her.</p><p>“It’s alright, Juniper. You’re home now.” She pressed a kiss to my forehead before cradling my face in her hands and pulling back gently to look at me. “You look half starved. Let’s get some food in you.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always, thank you so much for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Family Reunion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper tries to make amends with her family.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My room was exactly as I’d left it. My corkboard still hung, photos of my family interspersed with pictures of things I wanted to do and see. My puppy teeth, preserved in resin with a few juniper needles, still sat on the nightstand—a tradition Mama had insisted on for all five of us. My bookshelf had collected a fine film of dust but was otherwise unchanged.</p><p>The dresser drawers still hung gaping open from my frantic packing that morning.</p><p>I slipped on a patchwork skirt and a simple white tank top before closing the drawers softly and leaving the room. Mama was in the eat-in kitchen, busy over the stovetop. She turned to me as I entered, beaming, but the smile was quickly replaced with tightly pursed lips. I touched my bruised shoulder gingerly, feeling self-conscious, and sat down at the table.</p><p>Mama must have started cooking the moment Cypress let her know they were bringing me home, because the table was weighed down and creaking with platters of all of my favorites: golden waffles studded with blueberries, fine grated hash browns, thick greasy sausages, steaming cheesy scrambled eggs, cinnamon raisin toast, and crispy bacon. Ash and Cypress joined us as I filled my plate, followed closely by Clay, who shot me a grin—I filled my plate faster.</p><p>Someone ruffled my hair, and I jerked away reflexively before glancing up to see who it was. My heart swelled and I threw myself at Rowan. He was the only one of us who’d inherited our father’s height and our mother’s stockiness—hugging him was a bit like hugging a good-natured brick wall. He squeezed me tight, lifting me fully off the ground in spite of my squeak of protest, and stole one of my waffles after he lowered me gently to the ground. “Good to have you home, Junie,” he said, taking the seat to my right. I sat back down and snagged a waffle to replace the one he’d stolen.</p><p>Ash, on my left, poked me in the arm with the butt of his fork. “What happened to <em>you</em>?”</p><p>I blinked and glanced down. I’d mostly forgotten about the knotted, reddened scar that stretched from my shoulder to my elbow. I put on a façade of careful nonchalance. “Oh, that? Chainsaw.”</p><p>The clinking of utensils and sounds of chewing around the table gradually ceased. The boys all looked impressed, but Mama looked horrified. I shot her an apologetic grin and a bit of a shrug—I’d come out of it fine, after all.</p><p>Clay set down his fork and tented his fingers, looking bemused. “Care to elaborate?”</p><p>I shared what I’d been up to as best I could, editing out the weirdest bits on the fly—Genesis, the Saint, and Cassidy being a vampire all got cut, mostly for the sake of Mama’s emotional wellbeing. I displayed my scars proudly as I reached their points in the story—the long wheal from Fiore’s chainsaw, the slash across my palm from glass in Mike’s driveway, the ropy stripe across my thigh from the peccary tusk. My brothers oohed and aahed appropriately; they all had their share of scars, but being the smallest and the baby sister I was usually the last to any conflict and had been sadly lacking until now. I was standing at my seat with my shirt hiked up my side to display the puckered scar left from being stabbed in the ribs when my father entered.</p><p>The warmth drained from the room as surely as if we’d been plunged into a deepfreeze. I stood frozen, my brothers all studied their plates intently. My father scowled, poured a mug of coffee, and left as silently as he’d come.</p><p>“Orion—” Mama began. He didn’t respond, and her defense of me died on her lips.</p><p>No one seemed keen to chat after that. My food tasted like glue in my mouth, and I pushed my plate away.  Mama was behind me suddenly, squeezing my shoulders and pressing a kiss to the top of my head.</p><p>“Best get it over with, Junie,” she murmured. Clay, Rowan, and Ash looked sympathetic. Cypress looked vindicated. I sighed heavily and stood.</p><p>“Rip,” Ash muttered, then yelped when Mama yanked his ear.</p><p>I made my reluctant way down the hall to the den. My father was sitting in his recliner, staring at our ancient blank TV. I knocked tentatively on the doorframe.</p><p>“Come in.” He spoke without turning to look at me. I crossed to our ratty old couch and sat on the very edge of it, plucking at loose threads anxiously.</p><p>“Daddy, I’m sorry—” I began, but he cut me off with a glare.</p><p>“<em>Sorry</em>. Do you know what this has been like for your mother? To not hear from you for <em>months</em>, and then videos all over the internet of you running around on a <em>waxing moon</em>? In New Orleans of all places! You <em>know</em> that’s L’Angelle territory!” His voice began soft, but grew thunderous as he continued. At the name <em>L’Angelle </em>my stomach clenched.</p><p>I stared hard at the floor, willing away the tears that gathered in my eyes. “I…forgot. I was looking for—"</p><p>“<em>Forgot!</em>” He was truly roaring now, and my cheeks flamed, knowing that the rest of the family could hear. “It’s bad enough for your mother knowing Jesse L’Angelle is back from wherever he fucked off to, but to know that you were in the same city! <em>Alone</em><em>! Unprotected!</em>”</p><p>The tears had spilled over, despite my best efforts. Icy fingers clenched around my spine as I recalled the cautionary tales that we’d all grown up with of the swamp witch and her cronies who would snatch any werewolf foolish enough to stray too far from family. My uncle—who Cypress was named for—had been one of the last, and the only one to come back. He’d told us where the missing wolves had been taken—to catacombs deep underground, to fight to the death against other wolves or against the soulless husks of humans who hadn’t paid their debts.</p><p>“Jesse L’Angelle?” My voice was a whisper. Suspicion tickled the back of my mind, but I pushed it away. Impossible.</p><p>Daddy scoffed. “Walked into Papa Bébé’s looking for souls, bold as brass. ‘Course they didn’t have any to sell him. The Japanese have made sure of that.” He went silent, glaring at the TV again. When he came back to himself, it seemed the worst of the storm was over. “Peccary, huh? Nasty bastards.” There was a glint of amusement in his eye.</p><p>“Yeah. I was—” I yawned hugely, “—outnumbered, though.”</p><p>He stood to leave the room, stopping to squeeze my shoulder tightly, almost painfully, as he went. “Get some rest, Junebug. I’m glad you’re home.”</p><p>I nodded and stretched out the couch, too tired to even trudge back to my room.<br/>~~~~~<br/>The light was all wrong when I woke up. My eyes felt like they were full of sand, and my head was packed with cotton. Ash was sitting in Daddy’s chair, and Rowan on the floor in front of the couch, watching the TV on mute.</p><p>“<em>Finally</em>,” Ash grumbled when he saw I was awake, and turned the volume up. A jarring fast food jingle made me groan.</p><p>“What time is it?” I mumbled. I rubbed my eyes vigorously and sat up. My joints felt like gate hinges left in the rain for fifteen years.</p><p>“It’s tomorrow. You slept all day <em>and</em> through the night.” Rowan shot me a concerned glance.</p><p>“Yeah. Feels like it.” My mouth tasted like dead things and I had to pee worse than I ever had in my life. When I returned from the bathroom, Rowan and Ash had both turned their attention to the TV. I snorted. They were watching a <em>Buffy the Vampire Slayer</em> rerun.</p><p><em>Vampire. </em>I slapped a hand against my forehead. “<em>Shit! </em>Cassidy! Give me a phone.”</p><p>“Who’s Cassidy? Girlfriend?” Ash’s face was mocking, but he unlocked and handed me his cellphone willingly enough.</p><p>“No, he’s just a…a friend,” I finished lamely. I was staring at the phone screen intently.</p><p>Long moments passed. “Are you gonna…call him…?” Ash asked, his eyebrow raised.</p><p>I sank onto the couch. “I don’t remember his phone number.” Or Jesse’s. Or Tulip’s.</p><p>Ash snickered. “Do you have him on Facebook?” Rowan asked.</p><p>“…No.” I was still staring at the phone’s display, trying to tease any of their phone numbers from my brain.</p><p>“Do you know his email?” Ash sounded thoroughly amused. I turned away from the phone to glare at him.</p><p>“No.” I paused, then sighed. “I have to go back.”</p><p>Rowan frowned. “You just got home!”</p><p>“I know! But I also just found them again, and there’s just…a lot of stuff going on. They need me.” Rowan turned away and nodded once.</p><p>I turned my head toward the kitchen, where I could hear Mama humming as she worked. My shoulders drooped. I was going to hurt her all over again. I joined her reluctantly in the kitchen, my steps slow.</p><p>Mama was standing at the sink, the morning light turning her hair into a halo around her head. As I stepped closer I saw that her shoulders were already shaking. I rushed to her and wrapped my arms around her.</p><p>“We just got you back.” Her voice was clear, even as she wept.</p><p>“It’s not the same this time. My friends just need me. And they don’t know what happened to me, or where I am. I’ll be back, I just need to do this.”</p><p>There was a long silence before she nodded once. When she spoke, her voice was small and hollow. “Let me pack you some food for the road.”<br/>~~~~~~<br/>True to form, she filled a massive insulated bag with sandwiches and salads and sweets, against my protests that I’d never get through it before it went bad.</p><p>“I made sure that you have six months of Trazodone,” she said, showing me the large pill bottle before dropping it into my backpack. “But then you <em>need</em> to get it refilled, if you go on another city roundabout your father will never let you leave again.” I rolled my eyes, but Daddy, next to her, didn’t look amused. My cheeks were flaming red, and Cypress, Clay, Rowan, and Ash were all snickering as they watched Mama baby me. “I made sure you have a burner phone, and an address book with our phone numbers and emergency quarters in case you lose the phone…”</p><p>Ash was openly laughing now. “Nowhere has payphones any more, mama!” I protested.</p><p>“And you have a jacket, and sunscreen, and bug spray…”</p><p>“Alright, I’m ready, thank you Mama…” I began edging toward the truck, trying to make my escape.</p><p>“<em>And </em>your brothers are going with you.”</p><p>I froze, my mouth dropping open. “<em>All </em>of them?” My eyes flicked to my horde of brothers, who wore four identical grins.</p><p>“Yes, <em>all</em> of them, Juniper,” Daddy said firmly.</p><p>Mama grabbed both of my hands in hers. “You don’t remember what it was like when the L’Angelle’s were at their most powerful. But I do. And with Jesse L’Angelle in New Orleans again…” She trailed off, her eyes distant and glistening, and then patted my hands. “Well, I’ll feel much better if they go with you and meet your friends.”</p><p>It took everything in me not to whine, but I did it. For Mama. “Alright.”</p><p>My brothers whooped and climbed into the truck. Mama pulled me into a crushing hug, and Daddy joined us, sandwiching me between them. My heart ached fiercely to be leaving them again, but the proper send-off made it easier.</p><p>A few minutes later I was jammed in the front seat of the truck, between Cypress and Rowan, my knees getting jabbed by the gearshift, waving furiously as my parents shrank in the driveway behind us.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is my first sort of addition to the canon, so let me know what you thought! As always, thanks for reading and constructive critique is welcome.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Meet the Family</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cypress, Clay, Rowan and Ash return with Juniper to meet her friends.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What do you mean you don’t know the address?” Cypress snapped. We were well and truly into the city now, and he was struggling to maneuver our behemoth of a truck around the smaller, sportier city cars and careless pedestrians.</p><p>“I only ever found it by tracking! I wasn’t reading street signs!” My legs were cramped from being folded behind the gearshift for so long, and someone—Ash or Clay—kept shifting and jarring the back of my seat. “I know what it looks like!”</p><p>“Oh, well great! That helps loads!” He laid on the horn as a tiny, spotless red sedan cut us off.</p><p>Rowan, ever the bastion of calm, cut in quietly. “Loop back to the bridge. She would have had to start there. We’ll figure it out.”</p><p>“That’s what I was <em>doing</em>,” Cypress grumbled as he looped around the block to head back toward the bridge.</p><p>It took a couple more hours, a lot of rerouting, and one attempt at vehicular manslaughter, but we found the apartments—<em>3927 St Anne Street</em>, I noted carefully—and there was even a parking spot available close to the still-broken gate. We scrambled out of the overcrowded cab (looking like nothing so much as a clown car, I was sure), and I grabbed my bag from the truck bed.</p><p>I was halfway across the courtyard before I realized I was being followed. “…What are you guys doing?”</p><p>“Mama wanted us to meet your friends, and that’s what we’re gonna do,” Ash said, the very image of a devoted and obedient son. I glared.</p><p>“Come on, Junie. We wanna meet them,” Clay put in earnestly.</p><p>I sighed and turned away to keep walking. “Fine, but <em>be nice,</em>” I threw over my shoulder. The shuffle of their eager footsteps as they followed made me grin.<br/>~~~~~<br/>Cassidy was on his way out, locking the apartment door behind him. My heart soared and I my steps quickened when I spotted him. Dennis stood beside him, umbrella in hand, looking much sharper than when we’d first met in a button-up and slacks. Cassidy looked as though he might have dipped into his son’s closet in a dark blue, bird print shirt that shone like silk. A new tattoo peeked from his collar and something white—a wiimote? hung from his neck on a black cord. His eyes fell on me as he turned away from the door, and his face split into a wide smile. He closed the distance between us in a few long steps and caught me in his arms, spinning me in a quick circle before putting me down again, his hands cradling my hips.</p><p>“Juniper! Jaysis, I’m so sorry, I didn’ think o’ the windows, or the moon, <em>or</em> the valium, I shoulda t’ought, I can’t believe I was so <em>stupid</em>--” I pressed my hand over his mouth to quiet him.</p><p>“It’s alright. No harm done.” I waited for him to nod once before I removed my hand.</p><p>“I’m sorry—” he began immediately. I caught his face between my hands.</p><p>“<em>Stop</em>,” I murmured. He smiled bashfully and kissed me lightly on the lips.</p><p>There was a pointed cough from behind me, and I took a rapid step back from Cassidy, my cheeks coloring. His eyes flicked up over my shoulder. “Can I help you lads?”</p><p>I turned to see a spectrum of expressions from amusement to shock to open dislike. “Cassidy, these are my brothers. Cypress, Clay, Rowan, and Ash,” I pointed them out in turn. Dennis tipped his hat and continued down the hall past us, shooting us a little wave. To his credit, Cassidy recovered quickly and thrust his hand forward to Cypress. After a long moment Cypress shook it stiffly, his knuckles white, his eyes roaming over the tattoos that decorated Cassidy’s hand and forearm.</p><p>Cassidy jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the apartment door. “You lads want a drink?” <br/>~~~~<br/>My brothers piled onto the couch in the living room, though they’d refused drinks. Cypress, Clay, and Rowan were all staring at Cassidy in a way that bordered on belligerent. Ash was taking in the apartment, openly gawping at the cracked paint and newly patched drywall. Cassidy had taken Dennis’ worn leather arm chair and lounged in it with a careful air of nonchalance. I leaned against the mantel, my gaze shifting between Cassidy and my brothers, picking at my nails anxiously. The silence stretched out, broken occasionally by yapping from another room.</p><p>“So you two are…dating.” It sounded as though the words caused Cypress physical pain. I glanced at Cassidy; he was watching me, looking unsure.</p><p>“Yes,” I said.</p><p>“No,” Cassidy said at the same time. Rowan cracked a knuckle—it sounded like a gunshot in the silence.</p><p>“It’s…new. We’re still figuring it out.” I turned my gaze back to the couch. “Cassidy helped me through my first full moon in Annville,” I offered hopefully. The boys seemed to relax a hair.</p><p>My statement inspired Cassidy. “So you lot, you’re all, ah, werewolves?” he asked in a conversational tone.</p><p>“Yes,” Clay responded, a predatory smile spreading across his face. I rolled my eyes.</p><p>“Cool,” said Cassidy. His fingers drummed an uneven rhythm on the arm of his chair. Silence again. “Are t’ere a lot of werewolves in Louisiana?”</p><p>Cypress was immediately suspicious. “That’s none of your business.” Cassidy raised his hands in an appeasing motion. “How did you find out about Juniper, again?”</p><p>Cassidy’s eyes turned to me, unsure. “I was…bein’ attacked. Juniper helped me out of a tough spot.”</p><p>I scoffed. “Saved you, more like.”</p><p>“<em>Helped</em> me,” he insisted.</p><p>“Why were you being attacked?” Clay asked suddenly.</p><p>“I…euhr…there was…”</p><p>“Where are your other friends?” Ash interjected abruptly, having finished his inspection of the living room. “You said there were three of them.”</p><p>I turned to Cassidy. “Where <em>are</em> Jesse and Tulip?” I saw Cypress stiffen at the name and flapped a hand at him dismissively. “Jesse <em>Custer</em>. Shush.”</p><p>Cassidy’s eyes shifted from me, to my brothers, and back to me. “Jesse t’inks he…has a lead. ‘N Tulip had an errand to run.”</p><p>His blatant evasion made me cringe. Four pairs of eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Honestly though, Cassidy is the worst of them. Jesse and Tulip are pussycats, comparatively,” I said, shooting a teasing grin at Cassidy.</p><p>“The one you’re dating. Is the worst of them. Just to clarify.” Rowan’s broad shoulders rolled under his too-tight polo shirt, and I heard Cassidy swallow.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>, which is fine, because I’m an adult and can date who I want,” I said, straightening. Rowan started to argue, then shrugged and grinned. Cypress and Clay still looked deeply suspicious. Ash looked bored. “Really, guys. I have a phone. We’re talking again. If he hurts my feelings I’ll call, and <em>then</em> you can tear him limb from limb and leave his innards for the crows.” Ash snorted, and Cypress and Clay relaxed a bit. “You guys should head home before the traffic gets bad,” I hinted.</p><p>They exchanged looks silently, then stood in unison, as though they’d rehearsed. Cassidy scrambled to his feet a beat later, and we walked them to the door together. My brothers hesitated there.</p><p>“Are you <em>sure</em> you’re okay here?” Cypress pressed, casting a dark look at Cassidy. Cassidy, wisely, didn’t protest.</p><p>“I’m <em>fine</em>. I’m good, actually. I’m happy with them.” I hugged him abruptly, and after a moment felt his arms wrap around me too. Clay joined us, and then Rowan, who dragged over a theatrically resistant Ash. “I’m glad you guys came,” I muttered. They gave one last massive squeeze and turned to go.</p><p>Cassidy opened the door for them. “Right! Pleasure meetin’ yeh…safe travels…I’ll take good care of ‘er, don’ worry…” He shut the door behind Ash and turned to me, looking exhausted. “They are goin’ to come back here in the dead of night, and they are goin’ to kill me in my sleep.”</p><p>I laughed and kissed him lightly. “You’re an acquired taste. They’ll learn to like you.” He rested his forehead against mine and sighed deeply. “Catch me up? What’d I miss?”</p><p>His body seemed to wind tighter, and he pulled away. “Jesse lied to us.” His face was dark.</p><p>“About…what, exactly?” I gently pulled him over to the table and we sat. I held one of his hands in both of mine, tracing the tattoos on his fingers lightly. He closed his eyes, but seemed unable to relax, his leg bouncing in place.</p><p>“The cowboy. The Saint o’ Killers, yeh remember.” A tendril of dread curled around my spine at the name. “Jesse told us he sent ‘im to Hell, come to find out he sunk ‘im in a truck in the swamp. And now he’s out, ‘n we don’t know where he is. The cowboy’s weapons were hid under th’ floor. Tulip’s gone to get rid of them.” Then, as an afterthought: “<em>And</em> he lied about Bimini.”</p><p>“And Jesse’s…looking for the Saint?” I hazarded.</p><p>Cassidy scoffed. “He t’inks he knows where God is. Again.”</p><p>I wrinkled my nose and changed the subject. “You got a new tattoo.” I touched the part I could see—Roman numerals, I thought.</p><p>He smiled a bit, though his leg didn’t stop its rapid jumping. “Me ‘n Dennis got ‘em together. He got a portrait of Shemp, if you c’n believe it.” He unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt to show me—a huge mockingbird with its wings outstretched across his chest with runes above and Latin below.</p><p>I traced one of its wing feathers lightly. “It’s beautiful,” I murmured. I trailed my fingers down his ribs to his hip, and hooked them in his waistband playfully.</p><p>He released a low growl and he slid his hands under my thighs, yanking me onto his lap in one tremendous pull. His hands roamed under my shirt, hot against my back, and he kissed me crushingly. I gasped into his mouth and returned the kiss, grabbing his shirt to pull him in closer. He lifted me bodily, my legs hooked over his narrow hips and his hands under my ass, and carried me to our room, his mouth never leaving mine. When he kicked the door open a tiny brown dog skittered from the room and trotted down the hall.</p><p>“What…?” My voice was breathy and uneven.</p><p>“Banjo,” he supplied before tossing me toward the bed. I shrieked playfully as I flew through the air. He threw himself on top of me and cut off my shriek with another kiss, nipping my lower lip and grinding his cock against me. I arched against him and moaned breathily. He caught my wrists in one hand and pinned them above my head and I gazed up at him lustily, panting. His eyes were dark with want, and one tight curl fell across his forehead. He was beautiful—I felt I could never get enough of just looking at him. The fingers of his free hand traced my hipbone, up over my stomach, lightly tracing over my nipple, to land at my collar. He stopped there and ran his fingers back and forth hypnotically along my clavicle. I twisted my head to the side to give him more access, relishing his caresses.</p><p>His hand tightened on my wrists, first uncomfortable, then painful. I squirmed as the bones ground together.</p><p>“Cass…that hurts.” He was still tracing my collarbone, but otherwise unmoving. I tried to pull away and he strengthened his grip; I gasped in pain. I swallowed convulsively, and his tongue flicked out to wet his lips. I bucked my hips violently. “C<em>assidy!</em>”</p><p>He flung himself away from me, striking the metal frame at the foot of the bed and toppling over it. He scrambled backward across the floor until his back hit the wall and sat there breathing hard, one hand tented over his eyes. I noted with a start that his hand was shaking.</p><p>“Cass?” My voice was small, timid.</p><p>He took several long breaths before he responded, and when he did he didn’t move his hand from his face. “In th’ dresser. Top drawer. There’s a little…looks like a glass fag. ‘N a lighter. Wouldja toss ‘em to me?” I did as he asked, rolling the glass pipe across the floor to him rather than risking throwing it. He lit the pipe and inhaled deeply. A strong chemical smell drifted into my nose and stung my eyes. My head began to swim almost immediately.</p><p>“Is it alright if I open the window?” He nodded without looking at me. I opened the window wide and then hesitated, torn. “Can I sit with you?” He was quiet so long that I began to wonder if he’d heard me. I was about to ask again when he dipped his chin in assent. I sat cross-legged next to him, leaning against the wall, careful not to touch him. We sat together in silence, and I watched as whatever he was smoking took effect and some tension in his body began to ease. I gently took the hand that still covered his eyes, tugging it down to his thigh so I could see his face. “What are you thinking?”</p><p>He tipped his head back against the wall to stare at the ceiling. “About Dennis. I t’ought if I changed ‘im ‘n I was here wit’ him that he’d be like me, but…” A long pause. “I don’ know how to get t’rough to him.”</p><p>I squeezed his hand. “Maybe…he just needs time?” I suggested lamely.</p><p>Cassidy shook his head, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “That’s not the only t’ing, though. If that were the worst of it, I could handle it.” I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “He’s makin’ me…<em>worse.</em>” My hand jumped to my throat reflexively. I lowered it again just as quickly, but Cassidy had seen and he smiled wryly.</p><p>“How does that work?” I asked hesitantly.</p><p>He took a while to answer, and when he did he spoke slowly. “It’s like…Yeh’re surrounded by food yeh crave, all th’ time…”</p><p>“Beef jerky,” I supplied. A ghost of a real smile flickered across his face.</p><p>“Right. Yeh’re surrounded by beef jerky, all the time. ‘N always at least a little peckish. Sometimes hungry. Sometimes starvin’. But if yeh keep yer head on straight, you c’n stop yerself from partakin’. Most o’ the time.” He glanced over at me, his eyes appraising, looking unsure.</p><p>I squeezed his hand reassuringly. “I’m okay. Go on.”</p><p>“But then this gobshite comes along, helpin’ himself to all th’ different…flavors…actin’ like it’s th’ best thing he ever tasted, offerin’ it to you, eggin’ you on t’ help yerself…It’s not so easy any more t’ say no. It’s always right here--” he tapped the center of his forehead with a long finger, “—how much yeh want it, how good it would be, how strong yeh would feel if…if yeh had some jerky.”</p><p>I nodded slowly. “Have you…talked to Jesse or Tulip about this?”</p><p>He barked a harsh laugh. “No.” He didn’t elaborate, and I got the sense that open communication was off the table.</p><p>“Okay. So. What do we do?” Cassidy’s shoulders sagged and he leaned into me, resting his cheek against the top of my head.</p><p>“I dunno.” He sounded so tired, his voice low and hollow. “The crack helps a bit, but—"</p><p>“That’s <em>crack?!</em>” I yelped, gaping at the little yellowy pipe. Cassidy raised his hand to cover his face again, and his body began to shake against mine. Guilt flashed through me and I flushed. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, if it helps then…then do crack…”</p><p>He snorted, and I realized he was laughing at me. He wiped tears of laughter from his eyes, shaking his head. “I tell yeh I’m strugglin’ wi’ the urge to murder yeh and yeh’re fine, but illegal drugs, ooooh, that’s the line, is it?”</p><p>I scowled and swatted at him until he raised his hands in surrender (still chuckling), then snuggled against his side again. “Besides <em>crack</em>, what can we do?”</p><p>He rubbed his cheek against my hair while he thought. “It may be a good idea to…not be intimate for a while. It’s harder to mind me manners when feelin’s run high.”</p><p>I wrinkled my nose, but nodded. “Pining from afar only. Got it.”</p><p>He hummed in amusement. “I think jus’…havin’ someone know is good. Bein’ able to talk about it.” His voice was gruff when he spoke again. “Yeh make me feel like less of a monster, the way yeh take everythin’ in stride. I’m grateful to yeh, Juniper.”</p><p>I badly wanted to wrap my arms around him, but settled for turning my head to kiss his shoulder. “You didn’t ask to be this.” I paused. “As far as I know. And making you feel like shit about it won’t change it.”</p><p>He scooped me into his lap, slowly and carefully, and held me tightly, resting his forehead against mine. I held very still, afraid of doing something wrong. “There is somethin’ else, if yeh don’ mind?”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“Could yeh get me a ginger ale? It helps with the bloodlust.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm trying to lengthen my chapters a bit, so updates may come less frequently but be more content heavy.<br/>Let me know what you think!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Jenny</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper reunites with Tulip and meets a friend of hers.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tulip arrived home while I was on my knees digging through the fridge for ginger ale. There was a lot of beer and abandoned takeout leftovers, but I was beginning to suspect I’d have to make a trip to the corner store to fill Cassidy’s request. I jumped when the door creaked open beside me, then smiled widely at Tulip. She returned the smile and leaned past me to grab a beer out of the fridge.</p><p>“Lookin’ for somethin’ in particular?” She cracked the beer open on the edge of the countertop and then leaned against it to watch me rummage.  </p><p>“Ginger ale?” I asked. Tulip wrinkled her nose. “I have a wicked stomach ache,” I added quickly.</p><p>A stranger poked her head around the edge of the doorframe. “I think I have some.” She had mousy brown hair clipped back from her face, and sharp features, but her expression was pleasant enough. Her dress and demeanor made me think of a Sunday school teacher—in fact for a moment I was reminded of Emily. There was a band-aid stretched across her right temple. I stood and brushed my palms on my jeans before offering her a hand. Her grip when she took it was gentle and her hands were soft. “I’m Jenny,” she supplied, smiling shyly.</p><p>“Jenny lives just down the hall,” Tulip said, jerking her head in the direction of the other apartments.</p><p>“We met when Tulip came over to fix a hole in my wall,” Jenny said, smiling warmly at Tulip. Hero worship was written clearly on her face. “I’ll be back in two shakes!” She disappeared from the doorway and I could hear her heels clicking down the hallway, and then a door open and close.</p><p>“What the hell happened to you?” Tulip asked immediately.</p><p>“Uhh, picked up by police, then picked up by my brothers, went home, realized I had no way to let y’all know I was alive, came back,” I rattled off. I hesitated. “I’m sorry. I should have kept track of the date. It was stupid.”</p><p>“Yeah, a little,” she agreed. “And Dennis cussed up a storm about the window.”</p><p>I shrugged one shoulder. “I’m just glad that’s the worst thing that happened.”</p><p>Jenny appeared at the door again with a two-liter of ginger ale and a bottle of Tums. She held them out shyly. “I hope these help?”</p><p>I took them with a grateful smile. “This is amazing, Jenny. Thank you.” I filled a glass with ginger ale and tucked the remainder in the fridge, then began to retreat to Cassidy’s room. “I’m gonna go lie down.”</p><p>“Is Cass gonna <em>lie down</em> with you?” Tulip ragged at my back. I snorted with laughter and kept walking.</p><p>Cassidy was still sitting against the wall when I got back to our room, but the pipe was abandoned next to him and he looked more like himself. I flipped the light on—the room was beginning to grow dark—and handed him the glass. I plunked myself down on the floor at the foot of the bed to sit leaning against it, facing Cassidy. He drank the ginger ale like medicine, wrinkling his nose after each sip. My eyes followed the smooth curve of his long neck as he swallowed, along his collar bone, over his shoulder—straining the fabric of his tight silk shirt—over his bicep and forearm where long, smooth muscle playing under painted skin.</p><p>Cassidy cleared his throat. “What?”</p><p>I blushed. “You’re just nice to look at.”</p><p>He scoffed. “Don’ take the piss.”</p><p>“I’m <em>not</em>.” I kicked him lightly. He snorted and looked out the window, nursing his ginger ale. “How are we gonna pass the time if we’re not having sex or almost dying?” I asked, grinning a little.</p><p>His face twisted in mock disgust. “Talk to each other, I s’ppose.” He didn’t offer a subject of conversation, and my eyes fell on his crack pipe as I cast about for something to say.</p><p>“Do you…do hard drugs often?” I asked. My cheeks felt warm—I sounded like a dork, even to my own ears. His eyes followed my gaze to the pipe.</p><p>“No’ recently. I mos’ly pick ‘em up to kill boredom. Bein’ like me, yeh get pretty goddamn bored. Blackin’ out ‘n losin’ time can be a blessin’. But since I landed in Annville, things’ve been in’erestin’ enough I don’ really need ‘em.” He shot me a grin. “Th’ crack is mos’ly jus’ an appetite suppressant. Like ladies who smoke fags to lose weight, you know.” He scooped up the pipe and lighter and placed them back in the drawer they’d come from, then joined me leaning against the bed. I entwined my fingers with his and began tracing his tattoos again, smiling when he hummed in pleasure.</p><p>“How old are you, Cassidy?” I realized I’d never thought to ask.</p><p>“One hundred and nineteen.” He turned a wry smile on me. “An’ you?”</p><p>I tried to conceal my surprise. “Twenty-four. When’s your birthday?”</p><p>He sucked his teeth. “I don’…actually remember. December, I think. I know I’m a Sagittarius. When I was wee I remember gettin’ combined birthday ‘n Christmas presents.” His nose wrinkled at the memory. “’Course, that mighta jus’ been cause we were poor.”</p><p>“So we’ll celebrate every day from December first until the twenty-first,” I said, grinning up at him. “Different flavor of cake every day. What’s your favorite?”</p><p>“Apple cake with custard sauce,” he said dreamily. His head tipped back against the bed and a wistful expression crossed his face. “Me grandmam made it best, she had ‘er own apple trees out back ‘n she’d pick ‘em fresh in the mornin’ before they went in the cake.”</p><p>I burned it into my memory—<em>apple cake, custard sauce. Apple cake, custard sauce!</em>—my new life goal being to bring that dreamy, contented expression back to his face. “Where were you before Annville? What were you doing?”</p><p>“I was dealin’ cards in Vegas. Night shift, o’ course. Thought I’d meet a lot o’ in’erestin’ folks but it was mos’ly jus’ sad sacks wi’ gamblin’ problems. They’d wait til th’ wife was asleep ‘n sneak out to play blackjack, ya know? Just a real bunch o’ losers, mostly. So this one night these guys offer me a few thousan’ to go wit’ ‘em to Tijuana—” (he pronounced it Teewanner, and I suppressed a grin) “—‘n I thought hey, why not? Tol’ the casino to shove it ‘n was on my way. But then it turned out they were a bunch o’ vampire huntin’ psychopaths so I had teh…you know, get rid of ‘em…only the pilot was in on the gig ‘n he came at me, so I had to do him too, ‘n then the plane was goin’ down, so I jumped fer it.” He laughed at my astonished face. “’N then I met you,” he added, tapping my nose with his index finger.</p><p>“I kinda…thought you were joking about jumping out of a plane,” I said. My eyes were still wide as I struggled to process the story.</p><p>“Nah. Figured it’d be better to go down meself than with th’ plane.” He paused. “’N I have a bit of a tendency toward what yeh might call self destructive behavior.”</p><p>I grinned wryly. “Can’t say I’d noticed that.” I shifted from tracing the tattoos on his hand to trailing my fingers up and down his forearm, lightly grazing his skin with my nails, and he closed his eyes. “Do you know…why?” I asked hesitantly.</p><p>A little wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows, and I wondered if anyone had ever asked him that before. “I s’pose it’s a bit of a ‘fuck you’ t’ bein’ what I am. Like if th’ universe is gonna force me teh live forever I’m gonna make it damn difficult.” A long pause, and then he continued haltingly. “An’ I suppose it’s a bit of a ‘fuck you’ to me as well? For carryin’ on when th’ people I love are dyin’.”</p><p>My hand froze in its path up and down his arm as I floundered for something to say. A soft “Don’t do that,” was all I could muster.</p><p>“Why?” His voice was full of self loathing. “’S not like any of it’s permanent.”</p><p>“I know, but…” I shifted to my knees in front of him and took his face in my hands. His eyes opened, but they only met mine for a moment before they flicked down and away. “I don’t want you to feel like you deserve to be punished for what you are. Or who you are. You’re a good person with shit luck. You don’t deserve to be punished for that.” He wouldn’t look at me. “<em>Please</em>.” Finally his eyes raised to meet mine and he gave a tiny nod. I squeezed him to me, wishing I could wring the sadness from him like filthy dish water from a sponge. “I love you, Cassidy.”</p><p>After a moment he returned the embrace. “I know, <em>mo stór</em>. Yeh don’ know how much yeh mean t’ me.”</p><p>I kissed him lightly on the cheek, and he turned his head to catch my mouth. The kiss was chaste and sweet, but even so I found myself grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, heady with the taste of him. He covered my hands with his, stilling them, and I smiled apologetically. “Sorry.”</p><p>He kissed me once more, but didn’t free my hands. “I need yeh t’ be good, because I’m shite at followin’ rules,” he said, grinning crookedly.</p><p>“I know. I’m sorry.” I wiggled free and climbed onto the bed I was coming to think of as ours. He stayed put, so I slid to the edge of the bed behind him and began rubbing his shoulders a little timidly. His head drooped forward almost immediately and he hummed his approval, so I continued, encouraged, my fingers moving up his neck and into his tightly coiled hair. I stretched a curl and allowed it to bounce back into place. “I love your hair a little longer like this,” I murmured. He pressed his head into my hands as a response; clear instruction to continue my ministrations. I kept at it until my hands were aching and he was sagging against the bed, his joints loose. I leaned forward to kiss the top of his head and he gave a little sigh. “You wanna come up here and go to sleep?”</p><p>I saw some of the tension come back into his shoulders immediately. “I was t’inkin’ I’d take the couch,” he murmured.</p><p>The idea of the little bed without him in it was incredibly lonely. I poked him in the ribs lightly. “I hear that thing’s lumpy as all get out.” I scooted over on the bed and opened my arms to him. “You be little spoon. My neck will be far away.” After a moment of deliberation he nodded and stripped down to his boxers to crawl in beside me. I curled against his back, rubbing my cheek against the smooth knobs of his spine. I wrapped my arm around him and he took my hand in both of his, kissing my knuckles lightly and then bringing our hands to rest against his still heart.</p><p>“Good night, Juniper. And thank yeh for today.” No matter how many times he said my name, the musical tone he gave it still thrilled me.</p><p>I brushed my lips across the back of his neck, and smiled when I heard him sigh. “Good night, Cassidy. Any time.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I really enjoyed writing a s o f t chapter before things go sideways, I hope you liked it too!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. The Saint of Killers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Saint returns for Jesse.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I stretched luxuriously as I awoke to the sound of Cassidy snoring. I reached out next to me, expecting to encounter his hand, but there was nothing. I frowned without opening my eyes, groping around on the mattress. There was no one, but his snores were coming from close by. I resigned myself to fully waking up and opened my eyes to confirm that the bed was empty—and the bedroom appeared to be, too. I leaned over his side of the bed and found him—curled on his side with his back to the bed, with no blanket, his cheek pillowed on one arm.</p><p>“Cass?” I touched his shoulder lightly and his snores stuttered as his eyes opened. “Did you fall out of bed?” I tried not to grin too widely.</p><p>He shook his head, his eyes somber. “Trouble sleepin’, s’all.”</p><p>“Did I do something?” I asked. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.</p><p>“I was too nervous t’ sleep. Afraid if I let my guard down wit’ you so close I might…Well. Trouble sleepin’.”</p><p>I squeezed his hand. “I trust you, Cassidy.”</p><p>He scoffed, and his face twisted. “How c’n yeh say that? Look at this!” He caught my hand and held it in front of my face. A deep purple bruise made a grisly bangle around my wrist. He wrapped his other hand very gently over the bruise—it was an exact match. “Yeh’re no’ safe wit’ me.”</p><p>I wrenched my hand away and sat up. “And you’re not safe with me! I could have killed you the other night! So we’re even!”</p><p>“You could <em>not</em> have killed me. An’ we c’n plan for your thing. I’m like a tickin’ time bomb. Yeh’d have to be stupid to trust me.” His voice was scornful.</p><p>My mouth fell open in surprise and hurt, but before I could respond we were interrupted by scratching and whining at the door. Cassidy sat up to wrench it open and Banjo hopped up onto the bed, pawing at me for attention. I gave his chin a quick scratch, then stood. “I’m gonna put coffee on,” I muttered, refusing to look at Cassidy. He was still sitting on the floor when I left the room.</p><p>Tulip was sitting in the kitchen, still and silent, fixated on a seemingly random spot on the floor. She didn’t greet me when I entered, and I took my cue from her and wordlessly ground some coffee beans and filled the coffee maker. Feeling spiteful, I only added enough water for two cups of coffee. When the machine beeped that it was done, I brought two steaming mugs to the table, along with cream and sugar.</p><p>Tulip finally glanced at me, looking a little surprised to see me there. “Hey,” she murmured, absentmindedly adding sugar to her coffee.</p><p>“Morning.” I gave her a tight smile and sipped from my mug.</p><p>Cassidy joined us a moment later, inspecting the empty coffee pot before rounding on Tulip to take in her blank expression. “What’s th’ matter with you?” he asked, more abrupt than usual.</p><p>“There’s a finger under the stove,” she murmured. She sounded hypnotized. Cassidy followed her gaze.</p><p>“Oh, yeah,” Cassidy said, as though this were commonplace. He turned back to Tulip and began to sleep, but I scoffed. “Yes?” he asked, his voice tight.</p><p>“I know you’re not going to leave that for someone else to pick up, seeing as it’s <em>your</em> finger,” I snapped. He made a great show of gingerly plucking up the finger between his index and thumb and throwing it into the trash.</p><p>“Happy?” he asked.</p><p>“I w<em>as</em>,” I shot back snottily.</p><p>He rolled his eyes and turned to Tulip. “Any word from Jesse?”</p><p>She slammed her coffee mug down hard enough that I was surprised it didn’t shatter. “No! And I don’t know why you care! He <em>left us</em>, Cass!”</p><p>“I’m aware o’ that! You’re not the only one havin’ a bad time here, alright?” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the counter, looking surly.</p><p>Tulip seemed to deflate, propping her chin on one hand. “Who put him in charge, anyway?”</p><p>“Not me. I always thought I was in charge,” Cassidy said, his face a mask of perfect earnestness. I met Tulip’s eyes and we both dissolved into giggles. “What?”</p><p>“Cassidy, I love you very much, but you are <em>not </em>in charge,” I said, grinning up at him. My earlier frustration was nearly forgotten.</p><p>“You’re like…third, at best,” Tulip added.</p><p>“T’ird! What! How d’yeh figure?” I couldn’t tell how much of his outrage was real.</p><p>Tulip counted off on her fingers. “You’re not in charge o’ me, you’re not in charge of Jesse—Juniper, is Cassidy in charge o’ you?”</p><p>“Sometimes. If I let him be.” I shot Cassidy a sly grin and he rolled his eyes.</p><p>“So third-and-a-half in charge. It’s just math.” Tulip sat back, looking pleased with herself.</p><p>Cassidy crossed the kitchen to start more coffee for himself. “Well, I’m in charge o’ Banjo. <em>And </em>Dennis.” Once his coffee was brewed and poured he joined us at the table. “Alright then, miss second-in-charge. What’re we gonna do?”</p><p>Tulip pursed her lips in thought, and then nodded. “We go to Bimini as planned.”</p><p>Cassidy choked on his coffee. “The three of us?” Tulip nodded. “Wit’out Jesse?”</p><p>“Sure. Why not?” Tulip said.</p><p>I saw the shift in him this time—watched his gaze slide from her face to the side of her neck and his eyes go out of focus. The tip of his tongue touched his upper lip, moistening it. I kicked him sharply under the table and he jerked back to himself.</p><p>“No reason,” he muttered. He took a long swallow of his coffee. “Jesse’ll be back. He always comes back.”</p><p>“Not always,” Tulip said. Her eyes were far away again. A moment later, the door opened and Jesse slouched through the door, looking tired. He greeted Cassidy and Tulip, and then his eyes fell on me.</p><p>“You’re back.” He sounded pleased, which surprised me. “Glad you’re alright.” I raised my coffee mug in a toast, then drank as Tulip and Cassidy bickered.</p><p>“You find God?” Tulip asked after a minute.</p><p>“I don’t wanna talk about God right now.” I raised my eyebrows and saw Tulip and Cassidy mirror my expression. “Does anyone have a drink?”</p><p>Cassidy clapped his hands and jabbed both pointers at Jesse. “That! That is why you’re first in charge. I got somethin’ in me room, been savin’ for a special occasion.” He started to parade from the room, his coffee abandoned on the table, then stretched a hand back to me, hesitant. “Join us?” I gave him a small smile and took his hand. I turned to Tulip as he was tugging me away.</p><p>“You coming?” I asked, straining against Cassidy’s hold.</p><p>Tulip waved a hand at me. “In a minute.”</p><p>I gave up resisting Cassidy and he pulled me into our room, where he retrieved a quart-sized jar of what looked like mouthwash out from under the bed. We climbed out onto the balcony—Cassidy and Jesse each took a chair and I perched on the wide windowsill. Cassidy thrust the jar toward me and I shook my head, lifting my coffee cup a bit. He shrugged one shoulder—<em>suitcherself</em>—and launched into a tirade about the various uses of foreskins from circumcised babies with no preamble whatsoever. I tilted my head back against the window frame and watched him gesticulating wildly as he accused every company from Aveeno to Gerber of putting foreskin in their wares. After a few minutes he seemed to abruptly remember that Jesse had wanted a drink and splashed some of his mystery jar into a mug. He began to reach across to Jesse and I grabbed his wrist just before it crossed into the sunlight.</p><p>He looked affronted for a moment, then realization crossed his face. “Thank yeh, <em>mo stór</em>,” he said, grinning bashfully. I took the mug from his hand and passed it to Jesse—my nose wrinkled as it passed close to my face; it smelled like nail polish remover.</p><p>Jesse apparently agreed. A swig of the mystery jar’s contents (‘reserve stock’, Cass had called it) set him coughing. “Can we get a beer now?” he asked, red-faced and breathless.</p><p>“All <em>right</em>,” Cassidy muttered. Then he bellowed, nearly startling me off the window sill. “<em>TULIP! Get yer man a six-pack!</em>”</p><p>I scowled at him—mostly playfully—and swatted him in the shoulder. “You—” <em>swat! </em>“—have—” s<em>wat! </em>“--legs!” He shielded his head from me, laughing.</p><p>“Alright, alright, yeh harpy. I’ll do it meself.” He climbed past me through the window and disappeared, leaving Jesse and I alone.</p><p>“You two are still a thing, huh?” Jesse asked. I nodded, smiling down at my coffee cup. “You’re good for him.”</p><p>He felt like the old Jesse for the first time in a long while, so I restrained the urge to ask him why exactly he thought he knew what was and wasn’t good for Cassidy, instead opting for another swig of my coffee.</p><p>A scream and a thunderous crash came from inside, and we both bolted to our feet. Jesse shoved past me and disappeared deeper into the apartment. I was right behind him, already beginning to shift as I stripped out of my clothes.</p><p>I recognized the scent of the intruder before I’d completed my shift. The blend of leather and gunmetal and sulphur, and the creeping dread that came with it, roiled in the air like smoke. Every instinct screamed to bolt back out the open window and never stop running. I shrank until my belly brushed the floor and a long whine escaped me. I could hear the low rhythmic jingle of boot spurs and then Jesse speaking. The Saint of Killers responded—low, assured, and calm, but his voice sent violent tremors through me. I stared over my shoulder at the window, and began to pant.  </p><p>Jesse tried to use Genesis, but something was wrong. Blows began to land. I tore my eyes away from the window and took a step toward the living room, body still so low I was nearly crawling. I took another step.</p><p>“<em>Come here, ya shite!"</em></p><p>Cassidy. A blow landed and there was a groan, and then another crash. At his groan, I was able to straighten and dash to the doorway that led to the living room.</p><p>The Saint of Killers was impossibly tall, with a wide-brimmed hat concealing most of his face, and a grizzled beard and stringy grey hair hiding much of the rest. He wore a black duster that nearly touched the floor, and massive boots with sharp, shining spurs. And he held Jesse suspended in the air by the throat.</p><p>The Saint balled a huge, bloody fist and drove it into Jesse’s face. Jesse struck the wall and fell in a shower of shattered glass, groaning. The Saint stepped closer and drew back a heavy booted foot. I gave myself no choice but to move, lunging forward to stand over Jesse, my tail tucked, my body cowering low, but my lips peeled back from my teeth in defiance.</p><p>The Saint stopped. “Move.” His voice was impassive, as if it didn’t particularly matter to him whether I moved or not. A shudder ran through my body from nose to tail, but I stayed, pulling my lips back further and emitting a low growl. He raised a hand as if to strike me and I leapt to grab his hand in my mouth, clamping down with all of my force and tearing my head back and forth.</p><p>I hung suspended from his wrist, my hind paws barely able to scratch the floor. His hand was whole in my mouth, though my jaw ached with effort. He sneered at me and flicked his hand, shaking me off as easily as a droplet of water. I sailed through the air and struck the mantel, sending an avalanche of dust cascading down from the chimney.</p><p>There was a piercing ringing in my ears; below it I could distantly hear blows landing again. Something wet and metallic-smelling trickled from my nose. My left side had gone numb on impact, but the pain began to make itself known slowly and then in a great cascade of hurts. I struggled to gather uncooperative, trembling legs beneath me as the Saint lifted Jesse high into the air and brought him crashing down on the coffee table, splintering it and sending chess pieces flying.</p><p>Tulip was there suddenly, snatching a poker from beside me and bringing it down hard across the Saint’s shoulders. “<em>Leave him alone, you…ASSHOLE!</em>” She was wild in her need to protect Jesse, but her blows had no affect on the Saint, he seemed to block them without thought.</p><p>“Stop.” For just a moment it seemed like Tulip might stop. Then her lips pulled back in a grimace and she drew the poker back again. This time the Saint did more than block. He lunged at her, his massive frame hulking over her tiny body. She dodged, but just barely. The Saint kept after her, driving her back. I bore down on my beaten body, willing it to cooperate. Finally I found my feet and shambled forward. I bunched my legs beneath me and launched myself at the Saint.</p><p>As if suspended in time, I saw his snarling face turn toward me and his weight shift as he drew back his arm. The balled fist pistoned forward, impossibly fast even in slow motion. There was no time to change course. I turned my face from the impact, trying to avoid the worst.</p><p>Nothingness.</p>
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<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Breakable</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The aftermath of the Saint's attack.</p>
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    <p>The floor beneath me pitched wildly from side to side. I ordered my claws to curl, to try to find purchase, but they didn’t respond. A wild rushing noise filled my head—for a moment I thought I was back in the ravine during Annville’s destruction. Under it, I could hear someone shifting about the apartment, but only my left ear seemed to sense them.</p><p>I opened my eyes. A little brown dog skittered back from where it had been sniffing my bloodied nose, barking furiously. Each bark sent a bolt of pain through my head and down my spine. I lifted a lip in warning and the dog bolted from the room, still yapping.</p><p>A man all in black, with dark hair and eyes entered, carrying a bundle of fabric under one arm and a glass in the other. I had a vague inkling that I knew him, or should, but his face was a stranger’s. I lifted my head to warn him away but the motion started the room swaying and spinning again, so I lowered it and settled for watching his approach warily.</p><p>He began making noises, but I couldn’t decipher them at first. After a few moments, meaning began to filter through. “—some clothes. Can you change back?” Recognition struck along with the meaning of the words—Jesse. He tossed the bundle in his arms to me. Clothes.</p><p>The shift back to my human body felt easier than usual—perhaps my body was so battered that a bit more abuse didn’t make much difference. I tried to sit up and my head began to swim again. The right side of my face felt swollen and hot, and wetness tickled the side of my jaw and my neck—I touched my cheek and my fingers came away bloody. Jesse knelt to give me a gentle hand up to sitting, his eyes never straying lower than my chin. I struggled slowly into a shirt, but the coordination required to put on pants still felt like an insurmountable task.</p><p>“Where are Tulip and Cassidy?” I asked. The words were clear in my mind but came out slurred, and it sounded like I was speaking from my left. I gave my head a little shake, and pain and nausea made me groan.</p><p>Jesse dropped two pills into my palm and offered me the glass of water. I swallowed them and tilted my head back, eyes closed, willing them to stay down. “Hospital. I just told you. They’re fine, just gettin’ checked out,” he added, when he saw panic flash across my face. I rubbed at my bloodied ear; the uneven nature of my hearing was disorienting.</p><p>“The Saint?” There was no sign of him, though the sulfur smell was strong enough to linger even in my human nose.</p><p>“Gone back to Hell.” Jesse stood again, wincing. “Dennis needs blood.”</p><p>I squinted up at him. “So get him blood,” I slurred sulkily.</p><p>“You’re his stepmomma, you do it,” Jesse shot back. He turned to begin gathering splintered pieces of the coffee table into a trash bag.</p><p>There was a long delay between my brain sending an order and my body responding, so it took me a few minutes to struggle into the leggings Jesse had brought me. I clambered to my knees, waited out a wave of light-headedness, and used the mantel to climb to my feet. Another wave of faintness made me sway. I made my slow way down the hall to the kitchen, leaning heavily against the wall. I was grateful to find a blood bag thawed in the fridge—the idea of stooping to get a pan and thawing a frozen one was overwhelming.</p><p>Dennis was lying on the floor next to his bed, his eyes wide and staring and his neck wrenched awfully to one side. For a moment I thought I’d been too slow and he was dead, but his eyes flicked to meet mine and he blinked. I began to kneel next to him but overbalanced and fell to my knees. My hands fumbled uselessly with the bag for long moments before I was able to get it open and hold it to his lips. Dennis sucked greedily, making obscene noises. I had never seen Cassidy heal and watched in disgusted fascination as Dennis’ cervical vertebrae popped back into place.</p><p>His hand clamped around my bicep, drawing me in. I tried to scramble backwards, but he was stronger than me. He pulled me closer, his teeth bared in a grimace.</p><p>“<em>Je sais que tu appartiens à papa, mais juste un petit gout</em>…” His breath was hot and reeking of copper against my cheek.</p><p>I flailed my free arm behind me, seeking anything that could give me purchase or be used as a weapon. My fist closed on soft cloth and I yanked, trying to tear myself from his grasp. The curtain opened, and bright sunlight splashed across his face. His skin began to smoke and blister immediately; he screamed and let me go to shield his face with his hands.</p><p>“I’m sorry!” I tried to clamber to my feet, fell, and scrambled for the door on my hands and knees. “I didn’t mean to!” I cried over my shoulder as I rushed down the hall. His pained moans were the only response.</p><p>Jesse was in the worn green armchair when I reached the living room, staring intently at the TV and fiddling with his ring. I flopped against the doorframe, panting, my head pounding.</p><p>“Dennis alright?” His eyes didn’t move from the screen.</p><p>I couldn’t help rubbing at my useless ear, though I knew at this point it wouldn’t help. “Yeah, he’s okay.” On TV, someone from the Vatican—the pope, presumably—was announcing that God had abandoned humanity. I raised my eyebrows. “So this is just…common knowledge now?” Jesse shushed me. The pope went on to explain that a Messiah (not <em>the</em>, I noted) was going to take his place.</p><p>The doorknob rattled and I tensed, anticipating but by no means ready for a new conflict. Jesse brushed past me and down the hall, and I struggled to my feet to follow. The floor lurched under me and I fell against the wall—I leaned against it heavily as I made my way to the kitchen. As I reached the entrance I cautiously left the wall to stand as tall and imposing as I could as I joined Jesse and whoever had arrived.</p><p>Cassidy and Tulip were back. Tulip appeared unhurt and angry. Cassidy’s face was smeared with blood—forehead, temples, nose, everywhere—and his arm was in a sling. He was glaring at Jesse, but his eyes widened when he saw me.</p><p>“<em>Jaysis</em>, Juniper, what th’ hell didja do to yerself?” He crossed the kitchen in three long strides and turned my chin gently to examine my battered face. A shock of pain streaked down my neck as he carefully turned my head and I hissed.</p><p>Jesse’s eyes were still locked on Tulip’s face. “What happened?”</p><p>She raised her chin and her eyes narrowed. “What happened with you?”</p><p>Jesse inhaled deeply. “Let’s get somethin’ to eat,” he said.</p><p>Cassidy rounded on him. “I dunno if yeh noticed, padre, but Juniper’s brain is tryin’ t’ leak out her ears. She got her head scrambled protectin’ <em>you</em>, the least yeh coulda done is cleaned her up!”</p><p>He had the good sense to look abashed. “All right, then. Clean her up. Then we’ll talk.” He headed back toward the living room and Tulip took her seat at the table, the same one she’d been in that morning when she was mesmerized by Cassidy’s stray finger. <br/>~~~~<br/>Cassidy gently helped me to the bathroom, his good arm wrapped around my aching ribs to support me.   I gasped when I caught sight of myself in the mirror. The eyes were the only bit I recognized; the same yellowy gold as my Mama’s. Blood had crusted across my upper lip and had run from my right ear down to my collar bone before it dried—there was a smear across my cheek where I had touched it when I woke up. My right eye was swelled nearly closed and rapidly blackening, and a deep purple bruise spread from my temple to the point of my jaw—when I looked closely I could see deeper impressions where the points of the Saint’s knuckles had met my face.</p><p>With gentle hands Cassidy helped me out of my clothes, then turned to the shower taps to start the water. The bruises on my right side, from my flying leap out Dennis’ window, were beginning to yellow as new, deeper ones from being thrown against the mantel bloomed down my left side from shoulder to knee.</p><p>Satisfied with the water temperature, Cassidy started the shower and turned back to me. His mouth fell open. “Jaysis Christ.” His good hand stretched toward me but he checked it, afraid to touch me. “Is anythin’ broken?”</p><p>I flexed my limbs slowly, one at a time. “I don’t think so. Just…very bruised.” I smiled weakly at him. He stripped out of his clothes, wincing a little as he tossed aside his sling, and supported me as I stepped carefully into the shower. The pressure of the water against my battered body made me flinch, but the heat was soothing against my skin. He joined me and began cleaning the blood from my face with a damp cloth, his touch impossibly light and gentle.</p><p>“Yeh gotta be more careful wit’ yerself,” he muttered. “Yeh’re too breakable.” His voice echoed strangely and I jerked my head, still vainly trying to clear my right ear. The motion made me dizzy, but not as bad as before. Cassidy pulled back as if I’d burned him. “Did I hurt yeh?”</p><p>“No,” I murmured, steadying myself against the wall. “Just since I woke up, it’s like this ear is plugged,” I touched it lightly. His lips pressed together disapprovingly as he went back to tenderly cleaning the blood from my face. “Well I couldn’t just <em>leave</em>! What about Jesse?”</p><p>This seemed to incite him further; a deep frown line appeared between his eyebrows. “The padre c’n fight his own battles.” He finished clearing the blood from my lip and began working at the side of my face.</p><p>“And Tulip?” I challenged. His hand stilled for a moment and his nostrils flared. I smiled grimly and he continued in silence. After a while he turned my head gently to check his work, and brushed his lips over my forehead.</p><p>“This is why yeh don’ make friends with mortals,” he muttered. “It’s too goddamned stressful. Yeh’re givin’ me palpitations.” I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him closer carefully, to rest my undamaged cheek against his chest. He returned the embrace, mindful of the worst of my bruises. I felt him press his lips against my hair.</p><p>After a moment I pulled back and gently maneuvered him under the hot water. The stream went rusty red again as the blood was rinsed from his body. “Why are you guys upset with Jesse now?” I asked, recalling their glares in the kitchen.</p><p>Cassidy scrubbed the water from his eyes before replying. “He’s bin lyin’. <em>Again.</em>” He explained how rather than the hospital, he and Tulip had been taken meet a tragically unattractive man named Herr Starr, who told them that Jesse was meant to be the next Messiah. Apparently Jesse had been dealing with Starr for weeks and failed to mention it to us. “C’n you imagine? Jesse Custer, teh <em>Messiah</em>.”</p><p>I wrinkled my nose. “I mean, I <em>can</em>. But I’d rather not.” Cassidy snorted and turned off the water.</p><p>“They’ll have to choose someone else. There’s no way he’s goin’ teh go for it,” he said. He rubbed a towel briskly over his hair so that it stuck up in all directions. I patted my skin gingerly. The movement hurt. The contact hurt. “He’s bin in charge o’ the three of us fer what, a couple weeks? ‘N look how that’s goin’.” I laughed and then winced at the renewed ache in my ribs. Cassidy was already dressed, moisture soaking through his shirt and making it cling to his body. He took my towel and gently but firmly pushed me to sit on the edge of tub so he could finish drying me. He was as careful and as slow as he could be, and I tried not to react when he inadvertently hurt me.</p><p>When he’d gotten me dried and dressed I caught his hand and kissed his palm lightly. “Thank you, Cassidy.”</p><p>He knelt so that we were face to face and took both of my hands in his. “I meant what I said. Yeh gotta be more careful. Yer time is short enough, I don’ need yeh leavin’ me any sooner than necessary.”</p><p>It was the first time he’d spoken so openly about my impending death and his lack thereof, and he looked pained. I squeezed his hands gently. “I’ll do my best. Help me up?”</p><p>He helped me to the kitchen, where Jesse and Tulip were silently waiting. “Took long enough,” Jesse muttered, and I heard a growl, low and guttural, come from Cassidy.</p><p>The walk to the café was short, but we were slowed by the marks the Saint had left on us. We were silent the whole way; Jesse and Tulip walking side by side without touching, Cassidy and I under his umbrella just behind them. I tried to avoid the concerned stares of passers-by, keeping my head down.</p><p>When we found a booth Jesse gestured for me to enter first and sat closer to the aisle—I wasn’t sure if it was his intention, but it made me feel safe. Once we were all seated the spell of silence seemed to be broken, but with my bad ear aimed at Cassidy, Tulip, and Jesse all I could hear was the low clamor of the other patrons. I gave my head an impatient shake and rubbed at my ear, though I knew it was a wasted effort. I jumped at a tap on my arm and realized Cassidy had been trying to get my attention. I twisted my head so that my left ear was closer to him than the rest of the customers.</p><p>“I was jus’ askin’ if yer alright,” he repeated.</p><p>My cheeks burned, and my eyes welled with pent up frustration. “I can’t <em>hear</em> anything,” I burst out, rubbing my ear again.</p><p>Understanding flitted across Cassidy’s face, and he jerked his chin at Jesse. “Switch wit’ her, padre.” Jesse blinked, and looked as though he might protest. Cassidy shot him the grin that was an unmistakable threat, the one that showed all of his teeth. “I said switch,” he repeated, and Jesse did. I stared down at my menu intently, grateful and embarrassed. Cassidy reached across the table and gave my hand a squeeze, brushing his thumb across my knuckles once. “Did I ever tell yehs about the time I met the Zodiac Killer?” he asked conversationally. Tulip’s eyebrows make a break for her hairline and Cassidy launched into the story.</p><p>He kept up a steady stream of stories through our meal; I’m not sure how any food got into him because he never seemed to stop speaking. Jesse and Tulip playfully razzed him through each one, each working off the other to wind him up further. I picked at my French fries and listened, letting his voice roll over me and enjoying the way his expressions and animation brought life to his stories.</p><p>It wasn’t until we’d nearly finished our meals that Cassidy’s face grew serious. “So’re you gonna say it or should we?” he asked Jesse, his face speculative.</p><p>Jesse seemed genuinely puzzled. “What?”</p><p>“We met yer friend. The one with th’ head like an oiled egg.” Tulip was eyeing Jesse carefully, wearing a perfect poker face.</p><p><em>Caught</em>. “When?”</p><p>Cassidy bulled onward without responding. “The Messiah? Come on. That’s a joke, right?” His face split in a wide grin that faded when Jesse didn’t return it. “Tell me yer jokin’.”</p><p>“I don’t think I have a choice,” Jesse finally said, fidgeting with his beer bottle.</p><p>Cassidy scoffed. “What’re you talkin’ about? ‘Course you have a <em>choice,</em> you got lots o’ choices! What about findin’ God?”</p><p>“I found him already,” Jesse responded. Cassidy’s mouth snapped shut, I choked on a fry. “Sort of…You remember Man-Dog?” He was cringing at the memory, but it took me a moment to remember the account of being told they were being led to God only to be taken to a sex dungeon and a man in a latex dog suit.</p><p>Tulip and Cassidy were silent for long moments. “…No…” Cassidy finally said. Then, almost to himself; “I knew there was somethin’ about that dog.”</p><p>Jesse leaned forward conspirationally. “Well I got to thinkin’…is it worth findin’ a God like this? And honestly I…I dunno. But what I do know is someone worse is gettin’ set to take His place.”</p><p>Cassidy shrugged, unbothered. “So let ‘im take his place! They bin rotatin’ kinky gods on ‘n off th’ t’rone since th’ beginnin’ o’ time. You know? We’ve always bin alright.”</p><p>“Not this time,” Jesse replied, his voice somber. “Humperdoo, bein’ the savior of the world? No. I have to do this.”</p><p>Tulip finally spoke up, but it was to Cassidy, not Jesse. “See? Told you.”</p><p>“No! I don’ see. I don’ see this at all. Look—” He gestured broadly at Jesse. “—you, the Messiah?” He shook his head. “No offense, padre, but that has got t’ be <em>the</em> stupidest t’ing I ever heard.”</p><p> “Why not me?” Jesse asked, looking affronted.</p><p>Cassidy’s eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Have yeh met yerself?” He listed off Jesse’s flaws on his fingers. “Padre, yeh drink, yeh fight, yeh break peoples’ arms jus’ teh hear th’ sound they make! You’re just a person, like the rest of us, Jess.”</p><p>Jesse’s face darkened. “No I’m not, Cass. I was given this power. Me, not anyone else. Me. You know, a long time ago, I made this pr—”</p><p>“<em>A long time ago, I made this promise t’ me dad t’ be good</em>.” Cassidy’s voice was full of scorn. “We remember. <em>You</em> made a promise. <em>You </em>did. What about us?”</p><p>He floundered for a moment. “Well you can come with me! The hard part’s over, the Saint’s gone. We can go back to savin’ the world and havin’ fun!” Tulip looked away, and I lowered my eyes, intent on shredding my napkin into confetti.</p><p>Cassidy sounded tired. “God, d’yeh remember that time…feels like ages ago now…you were talkin’ about bikinis ‘n handguns, just getting into trouble, right? T’ me, that’s fun. <em>That’s</em> fun. Not bowin’ down t’ Lord Jesse.”</p><p>“Come on Cass, it won’t be like that!” Jesse protested. He took a swig from his beer.</p><p>“It kinda already feels like that, Jess,” I said. My voice was small, and I couldn’t look at him. Cassidy and Tulip both stared at their plates, silent.</p><p>“Come on…” Jesse searched from face to face. “Guys.”</p><p>Tulip leaned forward. Her eyes were wounded, but her voice was steady. “I love you, Jesse. ‘Til the end of the world. But you gotta be honest with me. What do you need us for?”</p><p>He had no answer, no reason why he needed us to stay with him. And so we left him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always, thank you so much for reading! I hope you're enjoying it and love getting comments.<br/>This chapter, and the next few, are going to have a few bits of dialogue that are very close to the show, because the plot needs to move in the same direction. I've tried to switch it up a bit to keep it interesting and hope you'll bear with me!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Bimini</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cassidy, Tulip, and Juniper pack for their trip to the Bahamas.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>We sat at the kitchen table in silence for a long while. None of us glanced at the door, but I think we were all expecting and hoping for Jesse to come after us, having thought of some reason why we were necessary.</p><p>“So,” Tulip said, when the silence had stretched out over an hour. “Bimini.”</p><p>Cassidy glanced up from his contemplation of the scratches in the table. “Is that still the plan, then?”</p><p>I shrugged one shoulder. “It sounds fun. And Tulip is the boss now, anyway. What she says goes.” That got me a small smile from Tulip. She disappeared to her room and returned with her laptop. We gathered around her, our chair legs scraping loudly on the linoleum, to watch her search.</p><p>“There’s a flight out tomorrow at 4:45…” she murmured, distracted. “One layover in Fort Lauderdale.” When no one protested she selected the flight and changed the number of adults to three.</p><p>“Don’ forget about Dennis! An’ Banjo!” Cassidy protested.</p><p>“Right…” Tulip said, drawing it out. “Sorry.” She changed the number of adults to four and added one ‘infant on lap’ ticket. The name that her laptop offered to autofill for credit card information was Jesse’s, and she confirmed with a small smirk. Once the receipt flashed on the screen, she slammed the laptop with a grin. “We’re goin’ to Bimini, bitches!”</p><p>Cassidy leapt from his chair. “I’m goin’ to tell Dennis!” He disappeared down the hallway, bounding like an excited child.</p><p>I stood more slowly—stiffness was starting to set into my muscles. “I’m gonna let my family know.” I squeezed her shoulder gently. “He’s a moron, Tulip. You deserve better.” She tilted her head to rest her cheek against my hand for a moment, but didn’t reply.</p><p>My phone had been receiving a steady stream of memes from Ash, but my family was blessedly respecting my space outside of occasional check-ins—so far. I eased myself onto our bed and shot a group text to Mama, Daddy, and all of my brothers: ‘<em>Going to the Bahamas apparently? Idk if I’ll have phone service.</em>’ The response was immediate.</p><p>Mama: <em>When!!</em></p><p>Cypress: …</p><p>Ash: <em>I’m coming</em></p><p>Daddy: <em>For how long?</em></p><p>I grinned at my phone screen, which made my face ache. ‘<em>We’re flying out tomorrow, not sure when we’ll be back, plane is full Ash sorry :c</em>’</p><p>Rowan: <em>Be safe</em></p><p>Ash: <em>&gt;:( </em></p><p>I muted my phone and tucked it into the dresser to avoid further questions.</p><p>“Dennis is gonna start packin’,” Cassidy said from behind me, making me jump. I rolled over onto my back painfully and opened my arms to him. He curled very carefully against my less-battered side and rested his head on my chest, and I stroked his hair absently. “D’yeh t’ink we did th’ right thing? Leavin’ him there?”</p><p>I rolled the question over in my mind. “I dunno. I guess. If it was the wrong thing he would have come home by now, wouldn’t he?”</p><p>“Hm,” Cassidy agreed. He slipped his hand under the hem of my shirt and began tracing abstract shapes on my skin. I closed my eyes.</p><p>“Besides, Bimini will be great. We can go on the beach after sunset when the sand is still warm and try new food and skinny dip and…have threesomes…” His hand froze in its path on my stomach.    </p><p>“Is that…somethin’ yeh’d like?” He was aiming for casually curious, but his cock twitched against my thigh.</p><p>My face grew hot. “I mean, I’ve never…done something like that before. But I think it would be…nice.” In truth the thought of Tulip’s soft, pillowy lips made my stomach flip. I felt Cassidy’s cock jump again, and he left me to close the door before returning to lie at my side. I rolled to face him.</p><p>“An’ how exactly do yeh see that playin’ out?” Cassidy’s voice was husky, and I could feel him getting harder against me.</p><p>I held his eyes as I responded. “I was thinking we could sit in your lap and take turns kissing you? And biting your neck and chest.” My voice was squeaky with nerves but he didn’t seem to mind. I reached down and stroked him over the fabric of his pants, and he thrust against my hand impatiently. I slid one arm beneath his pillow so that I could grab a fistful of his hair from behind—I used it to turn his head so I could murmur against his ear. “I was also thinking,” I whispered, gaining confidence, “that I would like to finger her, while you watch? You do me so well…” I stroked him harder as I spoke, and he responded with a breathy moan. I nipped his earlobe, and he growled. “Touch me.” I tried for a command, but it came out as a whispered plea.</p><p>“I don’ wanna hurt yeh…” he hedged, but his hesitation was halfhearted.</p><p>I grabbed his hand and slid it into the waist of my leggings. When he reached the warm wetness between my legs he groaned loudly. “Then touch me carefully,” I murmured with a teasing grin.</p><p>He seemed to gather himself for a moment before he allowed himself to respond. He straddled my legs then, and slowly stripped me of my leggings, planting soft, sweet kisses on my inner thighs. My legs fell open for him, inviting him in, and he allowed himself one torturous, teasing stroke of my clit before leaving me wanting. I whined with impatience and want, and he grinned. He crawled up the bed over my body to kiss me, and I arched against him uselessly. He removed my shirt, moving so cautiously that his fingertips barely grazed my skin. I shrank back then, anxious that he would be turned off by my bruises and scars, but he seemed not to notice them. He kissed me again, slow and sweet, and caressed my breasts with both hands, teasing my nipples into hard buds with the pads of his thumbs. I ran my hands up and down his arms, savoring the way his long, smooth muscles flexed under my touch. I tugged at the collar of his shirt gently and he shed it immediately. I traced my fingers down his chest, over his stomach to his waist and tugged at one of his belt loops meaningfully. He shimmied out of them, his movements somehow both clumsy and incredibly sexy. His cock stood erect and ready; seeing it sent a flash of wanting through me and I whined out loud.</p><p>He leaned over me again, but hesitated there. “You’ll tell me if I hurt yeh?” His eyes searched mine and I touched his cheek lovingly; his simple consideration made me feel adored beyond belief.</p><p>“I’ll tell you if it’s too much,” I promised.</p><p>He slid his cock into me then, and I gasped as he groaned in my ear. He supported his full weight on his hands and knees, but even the soft brush of his body against mine made me hurt—the line between the pleasurable ache of him filling me, thrusting into me again and again, and the ache of the bruises from earlier blurred until they felt one and the same.</p><p>I grabbed the back of his thighs, trying to increase his pace, but he kept his motions stubbornly slow and gentle. With each thrust he arched so that the head of his cock rubbed my g-spot, and a strong wave of pleasure would radiate outward to the tips of my fingers and toes. He lowered his forehead to rest against my collar and I buried my fingers in his hair, twisting my head to pepper kisses along his jaw and up his cheek to his temple. The waves of pleasure began to build on each other, a new one peaking before the last had ebbed. I began to moan softly with each breath.</p><p>“Wait fer me,” Cassidy murmured, slowing his pace. I caught my breath and nodded a little, but my body continued to stretch toward its peak.</p><p>“I can’t,” I whined, writhing against him.</p><p>“Bite me,” he growled into my ear.</p><p>I did, sinking my teeth in high on his neck, just under his ear. He thrust into me hard and I gasped around my hold on his skin, my pleasure cresting as he filled me with hot cum. When he’d finished he very carefully lowered himself on top of me, and while it made my body ache I relished the solid pressure of his body on mine. I ran my fingers up and down his back, drowsing.</p><p>“I love you, Cassidy,” I murmured, wrapping my arms around him to squeeze him to me.</p><p>“I know,” he replied softly. He lifted his head to brush kisses along my cheekbone and over my nose. “You know how much I wish I felt th’ same.” <br/>~~~~~~<br/>I woke to early morning light filtering through the curtains. Cassidy still lay sprawled on top of me, his head resting on the pillow next to mine. The lines smoothed from his face in sleep, and for once he wasn’t snoring up a storm. I moved to stroke his back and groaned in pain as my stiffened muscles awoke. Cassidy’s eyes opened and he scrambled off of me.</p><p>“You alright, love?” He knelt at the foot of the bed, staring, concern painted across his face.</p><p>“Mhm,” I murmured. “Just very sore.” I stretched my jaw, and rubbed my ear, hoping for improvement. No dice. Cassidy yanked on a pair of olive cargo pants and disappeared, returning moments later with a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol. I sat up very slowly and took two of the pills. “Bimini today,” I remembered, grinning up at him.</p><p>“Right!” He looked as though he’d forgotten too. He made a lap of the room, tossing every article of clothing he saw into the laundry, and I laughed as I watched him.</p><p>“Wait, wait! We need clothes for <em>today</em>,” I said, and snagged a t-shirt with three quarter sleeves and a pair of leggings, to hide the worst of my bruising. He nodded and pulled on a white long-sleeved shirt and a floral print t-shirt over that. I was amazed, as always, at how he made the most bizarre and outlandish outfits look good.</p><p>While Cassidy started laundry, I made my slow way to the kitchen to begin emptying the cabinets. If we weren’t going to be here to eat food before it went bad, I at least wanted someone to get use of it. I’d amassed an impressive pile of goods when Tulip passed through the kitchen.</p><p>“Are you going out? Can you drop these at a food bank or something?” I asked, holding up a can of soup.</p><p>“Yeah, sure, if you help me load ‘em up,” she replied. We finished emptying the cupboards and it took us three trips—she was able to do two to my one—to get the car loaded. “You want anything from the store for on the plane?” she asked me as she shut the trunk on the last load.</p><p>“Just some snacks, I think…some jerky and some skittles would be great. Do you want me to grab cash?” I started back toward the apartment but she stopped me with a hand on my arm.</p><p>“Nah, it’s alright. I still have Jesse’s credit card,” she said with a cunning smile.</p><p>Cassidy was folding the first load of laundry when I’d made my slow, tottering way back to the apartment. I joined him, sitting to his left, but he shuffled around to put me on his right so he would be on my good side. I beamed; I hadn’t even remembered to account for my bad ear but he seemed to do it without thought. We worked at folding together, savoring the quiet domesticity of it. I was lost in thought when I noticed his hands had slowed and stopped, a white button-down shirt clenched in his fists. Dark red stains were smeared along the collar.</p><p>“Cass?” He didn’t look at me, but quickly folded the shirt and tucked it next to him.</p><p>“’S nothin’,” he responded shortly.</p><p>I hesitated, and then spoke in a rush. “When you were gone, when the men in white had you I guess, I was taking blood to him and he…he tried to <em>bite me</em>, Cassidy.” The last was a hushed whisper, accompanied with a glance at the door.</p><p>Cassidy frowned. “He was hurt. I tried teh bite you when I was hurt, ‘n you didn’ make a thing of it.”</p><p>I shook my head once, rapidly. “It was different. He’d already had blood, he’d already healed. And he was talking, when it happened…You were too hurt to talk.”</p><p>We finished folding the load in silence and Cassidy took Dennis’ clothes to his room while I pulled the next load from the dryer. I was contentedly folding, enjoying the warmth and freshness of the clothes, when Cassidy returned. He sat down heavily on the bed, making it bounce. He was wearing that unfocused look again, his normal animation gone. He gazed unseeing at his hands, his nostrils flaring on each inhale.</p><p>“Cassidy?” I asked softly. I stretched out a hand to him, but withdrew without touching him. “Do you…need to smoke?”</p><p>He seemed to come back to himself after a moment, squeezing his eyes shut tightly and giving his head a rough shake. “No. Jus’…gimme a minute.” I brushed my hand over his as I left the room, taking the opportunity to gather my toiletries from the bathroom. When I returned he seemed more himself again, though a slightly reduced version of himself. I joined him again and kissed his shoulder lightly before I resumed folding.</p><p>Cassidy grabbed his denim vest from the pile of clean clothes, and a wide grin split my face. Hanging in the armhole was a pair of lacy, strappy, plum-colored panties. I snatched them, laughing. “These are crazy! There’s no way these are comfortable,” I said, holding them up. “Like, why bother?” I expected him to laugh, but he didn’t respond. He was staring at the panties wordlessly, his hands clenched into fists that rested on his thighs. “Sorry,” I muttered, abashed. I laid the underwear flat on the blanket behind me. I heard a dresser drawer scrape open and when I turned to face Cassidy again he was lighting his little yellow pipe. I crossed to the window and opened it automatically, and then rejoined him on the bed.</p><p>“You should go,” he said hollowly.</p><p>“Maybe,” I replied, taking his hand. “But I won’t.”</p><p>“Juniper—”</p><p>“Nope. I’m stayin’. I did not save your ass from angels, demons, and cult members just to have you go all mopey and self-isolating on me now, so knock it off.” I stuck my chin out obstinately; I was ready to fight him on this.</p><p>He opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again and took another drag from his pipe. He held it for a moment before turning his face away to let the smoke seep out from between his lips. “Yeh <em>helped </em>me, yeh didn’ <em>save </em>me,” he grumbled, but his lips turned up at the corners just a bit.</p><p>“Whatever you need to tell yourself,” I teased, patting the back of his hand. I twined my fingers with his. “You’re not alone in this, okay? I’m sticking around. You don’t scare me.”</p><p>“That’s what makes me nervous,” he muttered, but he squeezed my hand and leaned in to rest his cheek against my hair.</p><p>A tap on the doorframe made me jump. “You B-list creature features comin’ or not?” Tulip asked.</p><p>“Yeah, we’re coming,” I said, and stood to shove the rest of my clothes into my bag.</p><p>Tulip was eyeing Cassidy, looking bemused. “…Is that crack?” she asked.</p><p>“Yup,” Cassidy responded, without turning to look at her.</p><p>She shot me a <em>blink twice if you need help</em> sort of look, and I grinned and shrugged a shoulder. “Alright. I’m gonna start packin’ the car,” she said, and her heels clacked as she walked away.</p><p>I watched Cassidy roll the rest of this things into his pillow case—I’d tried to help, but his system was very specific—and hoist it onto his shoulder. He watched me flounder painfully with my bag for a moment before he took that too, and I shot him a grateful smile. I took one last look at the little room we had shared, feeling a stab of regret about leaving it, and followed him out the door. He stopped to speak to Dennis for a moment, but I hurried past as well as I could; my interaction with him the day before was still fresh in my mind.</p><p>Tulip’s bag and jacket were abandoned on the floor in front of the door. I felt Cassidy stop short as he made the same discovery. “Tulip?” There was a note of panic in his voice that made me uneasy.</p><p>“Yup.” Her voice was curiously flat. We found her in the living room. She was holding a tiny camera and playing with a gummy white substance that covered it’s back. Her gaze was locked on the corner where the walls met immediately above the door, and we followed it. Another camera. Goosebumps broke out up and down my arms. “They were watching us.” Her voice sounded like it was coming from far away. “This whole time.”</p><p>“The men in white,” I murmured. I crossed my arms, trying to warm myself.</p><p>Tulip nodded once, holding up the camera. “Starr.” Cassidy took it gingerly, confusion and then realization cycling across his face.</p><p>“Jaysis,” he said in a hushed voice. “I mighta masturbated in here.”</p><p>Tulip sighed heavily. “Yeah, me too.”</p><p>A hysterical giggle escaped me, and I clamped my hands over my mouth.</p><p>“What d’we do now?” Cassidy asked. “D’yeh think we tell Jesse?”</p><p>“What, that we masturbated in the living room?”</p><p>“No! Not about that! About ‘em spyin’ on us, gavverin’ intelligence ‘n the like! That bulbous one-eyed git has been underminin’ us this whole time, I say we tell Jesse about it!” Despite the seriousness, I had to smile—the more incensed he got, the stronger his Irish accent became.</p><p>Tulip took a deep breath and released it slowly before she answered. “What difference would it make, Cassidy? It worked.”</p><p>I reached out to take her hand. “Maybe—”</p><p>“I’ll be in the car.” She cut me off harshly and walked away.</p><p>“Maybe I should text him…” Cassidy began, then trailed off, looking at me helplessly.</p><p>I hesitated. “Tulip knows him best. If she thinks it’s pointless, I guess it is.” I took my bag from him carefully, hanging it over my good shoulder.</p><p>“I just need to get Banjo and I’ll be down,” Cassidy said, leaning down to kiss me swiftly.</p><p>I began to make my slow way out to the car. I was halfway down the stairs, leaning heavily against the wall, when I realized I’d left my charger. I cursed under my breath and reversed course, considering just heaving my bag to the bottom of the steps rather than carrying it up again.  </p><p>When I reached the apartment door I could hear Cassidy—“Put it down. Please. Just. Put it down!” and my nose wrinkled as I wondered if Banjo had found his cumsock again.</p><p>An unfamiliar voice spoke up—deep, with a nearly undetectable French accent, and somehow threatening. “Can you be a good lad, papa?” Dennis, then. I quickened my pace. “Can you be good?”</p><p>I reached our bedroom door in time to hear Cassidy’s response, though his voice was low. “No. I don’t think I can. Not with you around.” With a savage yell he propelled himself forward into Dennis, shoving him out the window and onto the balcony with a great heave. He slammed the window shut and grabbed the curtains, pulling them tightly closed as the screaming started outside. The window shattered above his head and two flaming hands tried in vain to claw the curtains open. Sunlight speared in through the gap and without conscious thought I hurdled the bed to help pin the curtains closed. Under Dennis’ screaming I could hear Cassidy murmuring, just two words, over and over: “I know.”</p><p>It felt like hours before the screaming finally quieted outside. I flopped bonelessly to the floor, trembling. Cassidy seemed frozen in his crouch under the window, his breathing shaky. When I felt able, I knelt next to him and gently untangled his fingers from the curtain, one at a time. After his hands were freed I rubbed them between mine—they were cold, and I wondered if vampires could go into shock.</p><p>“I didn’ know what else to do...” He seemed to be gazing through me, and his voice was a low moan. “I didn’ know what else to do.”</p><p>I wrapped my arms around him, rocking him gently. “I know.” I didn’t know what else to say. “I’m here. I’m sorry.” He tucked his face against my chest, the low moans continuing.</p><p>After two, or perhaps three minutes of this he pulled away abruptly, his face perfectly stoic, as suddenly as if a coin had flipped. “Tulip’ll be waitin’,” he said, in a very near approximation of normal. He climbed to his feet, brushing shards of glass from his clothes, and offered me a hand up, which I took automatically.</p><p>“Are you…okay…?” I asked, though it felt like a silly question.</p><p>His mask slipped for a fraction of a second, revealing weariness I could only guess at. “I did what had t’ be done,” he said. He scooped Banjo from the floor and left the apartment. After a glance back at the broken window and singed curtains, I followed.<br/>~~~~<br/>Tulip was humming when Cassidy and I piled into the back seat of the Chevelle—something soft and sad. A little line appeared between her brows when she saw us.</p><p>“Where’s Dennis?” My stomach made an uncomfortable swoop, and despite myself I glanced at Cassidy.</p><p>“He uh…he changed his mind,” Cassidy lied.</p><p>Tulip rolled her eyes theatrically. “Hey one o’ you can sit up front, if you want,” she pointed out. Cassidy and I exchanged looks—the idea hadn’t occurred to either of us. There was a sudden mad dash for the front. Cassidy threw himself out of the back door and scrabbled at the handle for the front, while I dove directly over the front seats to land there first. He folded himself back into the rear seat, looking theatrically put out.</p><p>“One of the perks of growing up with siblings, you learn to fight for shotgun like you mean it.” I grinned as I settled in, and Tulip laughed, a real laugh that made my heart swell.</p><p>She touched the keys in the ignition, then hesitated. “Gimme a sec, alright? I wanna say goodbye.”</p><p>I nodded, and Cassidy murmured assent. She half-jogged back across the street and into the apartment building. I reached back over the seat without looking and felt Cassidy squeeze my hand tightly. We sat like that in silence for several minutes, me gently stroking my thumb across his knuckles.</p><p>There was a sudden <em>pop! </em>from the vicinity of the apartment. I tilted my head. “Did you hear that?”</p><p>Cassidy’s head was already up and watching the entrance to the complex. There was no movement for several minutes. My lips felt numb, clumsy with my reluctance to give voice to my nagging fear. “We should check on her.”</p><p>Before I had finished speaking Cassidy had thrown open his car door and was racing for the apartment building, for once heedless of the sun that sent smoke billowing behind him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always, thank you for reading! Comments and critique are always welcome.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Agonal Breathing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper and Cassidy find out why Tulip was taking so long.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cassidy vaulted up the steps three at a time. I sprinted after him but was only halfway up the staircase when let loose a heartrending bellow, the cry of a mortally wounded animal. When I reached the hallway he was cradling Tulip’s still body in his arms. Blood poured down his front, staining his light shirt deep red.</p><p>“<em>She’s been shot!</em>” Panic was overtaking him, and I fought not to let it take me too. I stumbled a couple of steps back before turning for the door of Dennis’ apartment. I left it open behind me as I ran for the bathroom and grabbed every towel I could find. Cassidy had laid Tulip down on the kitchen floor when I returned. He knelt beside her, desperate to reach out but afraid to touch her. “She started havin’ fits, I-I-I din’t know what to do! What do I do?!”</p><p>I crashed to my knees next to Tulip and pressed one of the towels hard against her stomach. “<em>Call an ambulance!</em>” I snapped. And an afterthought, “Call Jesse!”</p><p>Blood was rapidly pooling around her in spite of the towel. I rolled her onto her side and saw that there was blood streaming from a wound in her back. I shoved another towel under her back and let her body roll back to rest on it. The towel I had over her stomach was soaked through. I traded it out for another one.</p><p>Cassidy was shouting into his phone. “<em>No I don’t know th’ bloody address, can’t you use yer goddamn satellites or—</em>”</p><p>“3927 Saint Anne Street!” I yelled. He parroted it into the phone and hung up, then began to dial again. His hands were shaking as he struck the keys.</p><p>Tulip’s eyes were open, roaming around the room, not seeming to understand where she was. I touched her cheek and they flicked to me before beginning to roam again. “Hey! Hey, you’re alright. You’re with me and Cass, and we’re getting a doctor, okay? You just gotta stay awake. Cassidy is calling Jesse right now, he’s on his way, you’re gonna be fine…” I kept up the steady stream of platitudes without registering what I was saying and without any sign that Tulip understood they were for her. I switched out the saturated towel again.</p><p>Cassidy hung up the phone and knelt on Tulip’s other side. “He didn’t answer! Where’s the goddamned ambulance?” He reached to touch her face and drew back again, his fingers pressed to his lips in panic.  </p><p>I fought to appear calm, swallowing panic. “It’ll be here. It will. For now we just keep pressure on. It’ll be here.” Blood was sopping through the freshest towel. It didn’t seem to be slowing.</p><p>We waited. I knelt next to Tulip, talking at her about Bimini and beaches and fruity drinks, and Cassidy paced the kitchen like a caged animal, wild in his feeling of helplessness.</p><p>Tulip’s face had gone a ghastly grey by the time we heard footsteps on the stairs. I sagged with relief, my arms trembling with the effort of holding pressure on Tulip’s wounds.</p><p>It was Jesse. The relief drained from me to be replaced with cold fear.</p><p>Cassidy paused his ceaseless pacing, one hand tented at his temple. “Sh-sh-she jus’ came upstairs to say goodbye, an’ we heard…an’ we found her in the hall…”</p><p>“Alright,” Jesse said, blessedly calm. He knelt next to me and took over holding pressure on the wound. “Give me a fresh towel for this.”</p><p>“That’s the last one,” I said. My hands fisted and flexed compulsively.</p><p>“Blankets, then!” Jesse snapped. I bolted to my feet and stripped the beds of blankets and sheets, returning with an armful of linen. Jesse grabbed the nearest one and pressed it hard against Tulip’s abdomen. He turned to Cassidy. “Try to find superglue, wouldja?”</p><p>“S-superglue?”</p><p>“Yeah, to close up the wound. Try under the sink.” He turned back to Tulip, his face soft. “I leave ya for one day and look what happens…Help me get a new blanket under her,” he said to me, and lifted her shoulders so I could slide a folded sheet underneath her back.</p><p>Cassidy returned with a wide papery tube in his hand. “What about window caulk?! There’s no glue!” Jesse glared at him wordlessly, pushing his panic over the edge into shouting. “What?! I don’t know what to do! I rang the ambulance like forever ago, man!”</p><p>Jesse held out one hand placatingly, the other still holding pressure on Tulip’s stomach. “Alright. Alright.” He took a deep breath, thinking. “We can rig up an IV drip. You got syringes?”</p><p>Cassidy nodded frantically, his eyes glistening. “Yeah, yeah.”</p><p>“Clean ones?”</p><p>“Yeah!”</p><p>“And there’s blood in the freezer?”</p><p>“Y-yeah, maybe some!”</p><p>“Alright, she’s AB negative.”</p><p>I intercepted Cassidy on his way to the freezer, halting him with my hands on his chest. “You get syringes, I don’t know where they are.” He nodded blankly and did a quick about-face, skidding in the pool of Tulip’s blood, and disappeared down the hall. I began rummaging through the freezer, checking each label before tossing the frozen blood bags aside.</p><p>“What happened?” Jesse asked me, his eyes glued to Tulip’s face. Cassidy rushed back into the room, his hands full of wrapped syringes and tubing.</p><p>“She said she wanted to say goodbye!” I tossed aside another blood bag. “To Jenny I think, down the hall…I don’t know who else she knows! There’s no AB here. And no O, either.” I turned back to Jesse, my heart racing, praying he had more instruction.</p><p>“Okay. Okay, we’ll drive her to the hospital. Cassidy, help me carry her.” Cassidy nodded and stepped closer, but as Jesse eased his pressure on Tulip’s stomach she began to convulse, her chest leaping in great desperate heaves and her breath coming in gasps. Jesse started chest compressions, but her spasms continued. I froze by the fridge, afraid to step in and afraid not to.</p><p>Cassidy reached out hesitantly. “J-Jesse. Jesse. Use the Word.” Jesse glanced up, his face oddly reluctant.  Jess, you’re gonna have to use the Word on her, mate.” Cassidy was growing increasingly desperate, pleading. “Just do it! Come on, just do it!”</p><p>Jesse took a deep breath, bracing himself. “<em>Breathe!</em>” The convulsions continued. “<em>Breathe!!</em>” There was no change.</p><p>“Wh-what’s happening? Why isn’t it—”</p><p>“<em>It doesn’t work any more!</em>” Jesse snarled.</p><p>“Why not?!” Cassidy pleaded.</p><p>“<em>I don’t know! It just doesn’t!</em>” Jesse threw himself back into the desperate compressions that seemed to make no difference to Tulip’s gasping breaths.</p><p>Cassidy seemed to still suddenly, a calm descending over him. “Alright. I c’n do it. I can do it.” He pushed Jesse out of the way, sending him sprawling. “I can help her.” He turned to look at us, his eyes apologetic. “There is no other way.”</p><p>His fangs extended and I could hear a low hiss emanating from his throat. He lowered his face to her neck. Realization struck Jesse and I in the same moment and Jesse kicked Cassidy savagely, sending him sprawling.</p><p>“Don’t touch her,” Jesse growled, stepping over Tulip so that he was planted firmly between her and Cassidy. “Don’t you <em>ever</em> touch her.”</p><p>Cassidy growled, low and animalistic, and leaped at Jesse, grabbing him by the collar, throwing him over the table. Tulip began to bleed freely again and I dropped to my knees at her side, pressing my hands against her wound, desperate to staunch the flow. Cassidy and Jesse crashed to the floor, Cassidy still growling, his hands around Jesse’s throat.</p><p>Tulip’s breathing changed, each inhale accompanied by a convulsion, her chin dipping in her body’s last desperate attempt to get air. <em>Agonal breathing</em>. The words came unbidden to my mind, but then they wouldn’t leave, repeating in a tempo that matched her gasping breaths. <em>Agonal breathing. Agonal breathing. Agonal breathing.</em></p><p>“Guys.” My voice was a whisper, useless. “<em>Guys!</em>” A shriek, enough to reach them. They turned to Tulip and I on the floor.</p><p>Cassidy’s face went slack with horror, and then he turned back to Jesse. “Listen…listen! You gotta let me do it.” His voice was raw with desperation, his words slurring together in the haste to get them out. “You gotta let me do it! It’s the only way.” He shook Jesse by his collar, willing the words to reach him. “It’s the <em>only way</em>.”</p><p>The fight went out of Jesse, and Cassidy scrambled across the blood-slick floor toward us. I moved out of the way, unsure of what to do. Cassidy was nearly there, his hands on Tulip’s arm, when he began sliding backward. His face shifted from grim triumph to a mask of horror as she slipped from his grasp.</p><p>“No! No, no!” He flailed and struggled, but Jesse had him in an impossible hold. I pressed another towel against Tulip’s stomach, knowing it was useless.</p><p>“Cass, it’s okay,” Jesse murmured.</p><p>Cassidy screamed, thrashing wildly. “<em>I can do it! Listen! It won’t be like Dennis! It won’t be like Dennis! It’ll be different!</em>” Jesse shushed him futilely. The two of them went blurry as my eyes filled with tears, but I didn’t dare take my hands off Tulip to wipe them away. “<em>What are you doin’?! She’s gonna die Jesse, Tulip’s gonna die!</em>”</p><p>“Then let her die,” Jesse said, very calmly. Cassidy seemed uncomprehending for a moment, and then a desperate wordless scream left him. He lunged forward, straining and gasping, but Jesse held him fast.</p><p>“Jesse, please…” A fist clenched around my heart and I realized I was sobbing.</p><p>“Let her die. Just let her die.” His eyes were locked on Tulip’s face, he seemed not to know we were there. Cassidy’s shouts quieted, his face purpling, and I realized he was fighting so hard for Tulip that he couldn’t breathe.</p><p>His struggles weakened as Tulip’s did, until at last they both were still.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you enjoyed it! I worked to keep the material fresh enough for fans but clear enough for people who aren't super familiar with Preacher--let me know if it worked!</p><p>Thanks as always for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0034"><h2>34. Angelville</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jesse has a plan to bring Tulip back.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tulip was still. My hands were still pressed to the grisly wound in her stomach, though there was no blood flow to try to hold back any more. My breaths were coming in sharp sobs that I couldn’t seem to quiet. I stared blankly at the linoleum beside her, each tiny scratch and flaw thrown into sharp relief. Two black boots entered my field of vision.</p><p>Jesse was standing above me, though I hadn’t heard him move. “Help me get her wrapped up,” he said flatly. My gaze traveled slowly up his body to his face—as impassive as his voice, his eyes blank and inexpressive as a shark’s.</p><p>I propelled myself into him, taking him by surprise. He stumbled backwards as I flailed my fists against his chest. “<em>YOU KILLED HER!</em>” I wanted to hurt him. “<em>BASTARD!</em>” Each slap of my palms against his chest left a bloody handprint. “<em>YOU KILLED HER!</em>”</p><p>He caught my wrists in iron grips and forced them down to my sides. “I have a plan,” he snarled. “But we don’t have time for this <em>shit</em><em>!</em>” He shoved me behind him. My foot struck Cassidy’s unconscious body and I went crashing to the floor. Jesse began wrapping Tulip in one of the last unstained blankets. The love was clear in his treatment; the tender way he straightened her dress, the gentleness when he tucked her hair behind her ear. When he’d finished he lifted her into his arms carefully—a gruesome groom with his swathed bride.</p><p>I hurried around him and opened the door, avoiding his eyes. He swept past me and down the stairs, Tulip’s wrapped head bobbing grotesquely with each step. I glanced back at Cassidy, who was beginning to stir, and hurried after Jesse. The doors of the Chevelle were still wide open, the keys in the ignition. Distantly I noted that Banjo was nowhere in sight. I helped Jesse slide Tulip into the back seat, my hands leaving tacky red prints on the blanket she was wrapped in. When she was safely in the car, I turned back for the apartment building.</p><p>“What are you doin’?” Jesse cried. “We have to go, <em>now!</em>”</p><p>My feet stuttered to a stop. “What about Cass?”</p><p>“<strong><em>Lea</em></strong><em>ve him!</em>” Genesis had the same crackling, broken quality it had in the apartment, and I felt no compulsion to stop.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em> you, Jesse Custer.” I broke into a run.<br/>~~~~~<br/>Cassidy was gone from where we’d left him in the hallway. A current of panic flashed through me. “Cassidy?!” My call seemed to echo down the hallway, and there was no reply. I rushed through the apartment, slamming doors open and scanning each room for him.</p><p>I found him in the room that Jesse and Tulip had shared, sitting on the edge of the bed. The length of fraying rope he used as a belt was knotted tightly around his bicep, one end clenched in his teeth. I watched frozen in the doorway as he tapped the crook of his elbow twice and then injected a syringe full of golden-brown liquid into his arm. Almost immediately his head began to nod.</p><p>“Cassidy,” I said, stepping into the room. Slowly and ponderously, his eyes found their way to me. “Cass, we gotta go.”</p><p>“Thought yehs lef’ me,” he said dully. His eyes searched the nightstand painstakingly until they fell upon his cooker. He pulled the syringe from his vein and began drawing up another dose.</p><p>“No, Cass, never, but we have to go <em>now</em>.” I took another step closer, clenching my fists against the compulsion to slap the needle from his hand. “Jesse says he has a plan.”</p><p>“Oh, Jesse Custer and his <em>plans</em>,” Cassidy drawled scornfully. “’S this one actually gonna work, d’yeh think?” He finished drawing up and began tapping his vein again.</p><p>I crossed to him with a step, grabbing the wrist of the hand that held the syringe. He flashed his teeth at me, but it was half-hearted. “It’ll work better than whatever this is!” I snapped, jabbing my finger at the kit on the table.</p><p>Cassidy blinked heavily, his eyes tracking from me to the syringe in his hand and back. “Right,” he finally said, getting to his feet unsteadily. I dragged his arm around my shoulders, pressing into his side to support him. “But if it don’t work, I’m gonna kill him.”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s fair,” I muttered, towing him from the room.<br/>~~~~~~<br/>The car was stony silent as Jesse sped down the highway. Cassidy’s nodding had slowly eased, and now he gazed through the windshield, eerily still. My hand rested on his shoulder, and he’d covered it with his own. Tulip’s eyes watched me, unseeing, from my lap. Her staring eyes were an accusation: if I’d gone with her to say goodbye, if we’d been faster getting to her, if I knew more about first aid…I brushed my hand over her face to close them, but they immediately popped back open like a gruesome living doll’s. Staring. Accusing.</p><p>“There’s somethin’ I wanna say,” Cassidy murmured. In the stillness of the car his voice had startled me. “Somethin’ I been meanin’ to tell yeh for a long time.” He turned in his seat to face Jesse. “I hate you.”</p><p>Jesse scoffed, beyond caring. “You think you hate me now? Just you wait.” He shook his head a bit as we turned onto a dirt road. “Just you wait.”</p><p>My eyes wandered down to meet Tulip’s again. I struggled to comprehend how the stiff figurine that stretched across the seat could look so like Tulip but feel so wrong. The likeness was flawless but the chasm between this and between the living, breathing, laughing, fighting, smoking, drinking, loving Tulip was unfathomable. I stroked her hair absently, though the coolness of her forehead made me shudder. I didn’t realize I’d begun to cry again until a tear fell against her cheek. I wiped it from her skin reverentially.</p><p>The car jerked to a stop and Jesse was suddenly at my door, leaning over me to scoop Tulip’s body into his arms. I shook myself out of a daze I hadn’t realized I’d fallen into and lurched from the car. Jesse and Cassidy were hurrying through the door of a massive white plantation house with overgrown hedges lining the garden, and I followed.</p><p>The inside of the house had been beautiful once, with high vaulted ceilings and ornate hand-carved stair rails. Now a fine layer of dust covered everything and the furniture was covered in white sheets. A mounted antelope head stared at us from high on the wall, an intricate cobweb stretching from one antler tip to the other. Jesse laid Tulip’s body down on one of the draped furniture pieces, and I followed to stand close to her, feeling an absurd compulsion to protect her.</p><p>Jesse wheeled to shout into the dim house. He seemed not to notice the it’s abandoned appearance. “<em>Granma!</em>” He roared it into the empty house, again and again, increasingly desperate.</p><p>“There’s nobody here!” Cass snapped.</p><p>Jesse ignored him, pacing from empty room to empty room. At last he seemed to give up, rejoining us in the huge foyer. “This doesn’t make any sense…they…I don’t know what happened.”</p><p>Cassidy stood with his arms crossed, still covered in Tulip’s blood, dull rage emanating off of him.</p><p>“You played God, an’ you let her die rather than be like me,” he said quietly, his voice all the more menacing for its softness. I touched his arm, but he pulled away from me. “You’re a scumbag,” he said, stepping toward Jesse. “An’ you killed her. That’s what happened.”</p><p>“No, I loved her,” Jesse protested.</p><p>“We all loved her, Jesse,” I said softly.</p><p>“She liked you both, too,” Jesse replied. His voice dropped off to a whisper and his eyes lowered.</p><p>Cassidy’s face twisted in a distorted smile. “You’re right. You’re right, she did like me. In fact she liked me so much she shagged me. How’s that?” Jesse’s face moved swiftly through shock to denial to the beginnings of anger.</p><p>My stomach dropped. “Cassidy—” I started, but he held up a hand to stop me.</p><p>“Yeah, back in Annville. We were high. Next thing you know, we’re in the back of her car, and we’re just shagging like a couple of animals back—”</p><p>Jesse cut him off with a wordless yell, and I threw myself out of the way as his tackle drove Cassidy backwards. He grabbed Cassidy’s collar, dragging him up off the floor to slam him against a covered credenza, and drew back his fist to hit him.</p><p>I leapt for his forearm, wrapping both of my arms around it. “<em>Stop it!</em>” I felt my feet leave the ground as Jesse’s fist tried to piston forward with my weight hanging from his arm. His head whipped around to glare at me, his face set in a savage sneer. A flash of dazzling pain and lights and I was on the ground, fireworks exploding across the left side of my vision. Distantly I could hear grunting and blows landing, and once a great crash of glass breaking. The ground pitched under me as I scrambled to my hands and knees. Jesse and Cassidy were a blur, all smashing fists and guttural grunts and arcs of blood. I grabbed the credenza to haul myself to my feet and the sheet covering it slipped, sending me crashing back to the floor.</p><p>There was a low, unmistakable double click next to my ear and I went very still, turning only my eyes to see a small man with a greying goatee and squinting, lined eyes. He wore a grey t-shirt that had once been white and a cap that was frayed all along the brim. There was a short double barrel shotgun in his arms, aimed steadily at my temple.</p><p>“Sho’ would be a tragedy to get brains all over these nice hardwood flo’s,” he said pleasantly.</p><p>Jesse and Cassidy had come back to themselves at the sound of the gun cocking. “TC,” Jesse said, his voice full of relief. A thrill of fear at the name made me swallow convulsively.</p><p>The man—TC—squinted. “Lil Jesse?” He lowered the gun from my head and crossed to Jesse. I watched in bewilderment as he cradled Jesse’s cheek in his palm with what could only be described as tenderness. He barked out an elated laugh. “Lil Jesse!” He turned to one of the doors off the foyer. “Miss Marie!” My mouth went dry. “Miss Marie!” My skin tightened into gooseflesh as though I’d plunged through ice into black water. “Look what the cat cough’ up!”</p><p>Turning to face her felt like swimming through concrete. The low whir of an electric motor preceded her entrance to the foyer and I locked my knees to keep from bolting. She stopped her chair to take us all in with a taciturn expression. The woman who had taken grandparents, aunts, cousins, siblings from my home, never to be seen again. The woman who was the reason my uncle still woke up screaming in the night and spent his days in a drug-induced haze. The woman whose name had been a warning and a threat for my entire life.</p><p>Marie L’Angelle. <br/>~~~~~~<br/><em>Granma</em>, Jesse had called her. It echoed in my head. <em>Granma, granma, granma</em>. So Jesse Custer was actually Jesse L’Angelle. His cool amusement when I attacked him in the church suddenly made sense. He’d known who I was for months and never said a thing. He’d known where he was bringing me and not cared to warn me. The realizations kept coming, rolling over me like a tidal wave. I swayed sharply and slid down the wall to sit before I could fall. I rested my elbows on my knees and my forehead against my folded hands, trying to be still.</p><p>Cassidy was beginning to stir from where TC had laid him out with the shotgun butt. He sat up with a groan. “Juniper? Where’s Jess?” He peered around, blinking owlishly.</p><p>“Kitchen,” I managed.</p><p>He wrenched his gaze away from Tulip’s body to look at me. “Yeh alright there?”</p><p>My eyes flicked to the doorway into the kitchen, where we could hear low conversation, and I shook my head just a fraction. “Just Jesse’s mean right hook.”</p><p>He seemed to take my meaning and joined me against the wall. “Dunno what yeh’re complainin’ about, you only got one of ‘em.” I managed a laugh and rested my head against his shoulder as we waited. He seemed to chew his next question for a few minutes before he spat it out. “You t’ink this old bag can save Tulip?”</p><p>Half a dozen responses flitted through my mind, but Jesse returned from the kitchen and picked up Tulip before I could speak. “Granma’s gonna help her,” he said shortly, and ducked through one of the doors just off the foyer. Cassidy stood to follow, but I remained on the floor, my body leaden with fear. He turned back to me and offered me a hand.</p><p>“Come on, then,” he said, softly encouraging. “I gotcha.” I willed myself to move, but my body felt frozen. “For Tulip,” he pushed. I took a deep, bracing breath and grabbed his hand. He hauled me to my feet and clapped me on the back. “Atta girl,” he murmured, and we walked together into Madame L’Angelle’s voodoo room.</p><p>Tulip was already laid out on what looked like a dentist’s chair, and the witch had just finished examining her. I stared hard around the room, sure that if the I made eye contact with the witch she would recognize me for who—what—I was. The walls of the voodoo room were painted a deep red, though most of them were covered in arcane wall hangings, trophies, and skulls. There were tall shelves set into every wall, with bottles of varying sizes and shapes lining them. I swallowed hard as I spotted a jar of large, sharp canines.</p><p>“She’s still in purgatory,” the witch was saying. I crossed my arms to hide the goosebumps that had popped up again. “She’s got some fight in her.”</p><p>“So you c’n do this?” Cassidy asked. He was trying not to sound hopeful, but hope crept into his voice regardless. “You c’n bring her back?”</p><p>“Purgatory’s a waitin’ room, but you can’t wait forever,” the witch explained. “Pretty soon, prob’ly by…” She turned to glance at the clock. “Soon. Death’ll come to the door, and when she answers, she’ll be gone for good.” A shudder crept through my body at the idea of Tulip waiting in some blank place, alone, not knowing why she was there. The witch turned to Jesse. “You know what I need.”</p><p>Jesse nodded once, already turning for the door. “Yeah, I made a list.” I started after him quickly—too fast, probably. I nearly bumped into him when the witch spoke again and he halted.</p><p>“Hurry up den. Oh, and I’m gonna need some transpoil. I’m all out,” she added as an afterthought.</p><p>“Where’m I gonna get some?” he asked.</p><p>“Ask Jody.” Another name I’d only heard in hushed, frightened conversation or screamed from the depths of a nightmare. I groped for Cassidy’s hand and clung to it tightly as we followed Jesse out the door. I had to wrestle the urge to bolt across the grass to the Chevelle, but my steps were still too fast, quick enough to draw suspicion from onlookers. Jesse and Cassidy had stopped to argue again, and I danced from foot to foot, gnawing on a thumbnail as I waited. Jesse dropped the car keys into Cassidy’s hand, and as he made his achingly slow way to the Chevelle I expected TC to come flying out the door, gun raised, having realized his mistake.</p><p>The moment Cassidy unlocked the car I dove into the passenger seat and slammed the door behind me, locking it for good measure. I began to shiver uncontrollably despite the Louisiana heat, and my teeth clacked as they chattered. Cassidy started the car and wordlessly turned up the heaters, aiming all of them at me. He drove in silence until my shivering had eased.</p><p>“You gonna tell me what th’ deal wit’ this place is or what?” he asked, glancing over at me from the driver’s seat. He laid his hand palm up on the seat between us and I took it gratefully. The contact felt like a distant light in a hurricane.</p><p>“The <em>L’Angelles</em>,” I choked on the name, “have…history…with my family. And other werewolf families.” I kept my eyes on the dirt drive ahead. Another shudder rocked me as we passed under the wrought iron <em>Angelville</em> sign.</p><p>“What, like Swamp People kinda history?”</p><p>“Kidnapping. Murder. The tombs.” There was a hot pain in my thumb and I realized I’d chewed my nail to the quick.</p><p>“What th’ fuck are th’ tombs?” he asked, perhaps seizing on the least offensive-sounding part of my answer. I shook my head jerkily and he nodded. He pulled into a general store parking lot and shut off the engine. He tore the list Jesse had written in half, handing me the lower. “C’mon. We’ll get it done faster this way,” he said, kicking open the door and opening his umbrella before he climbed from the car.</p><p>The shopping was a blessing, being able to pack everything that was happening into a dusty corner of my mind and focus only on my list and the shelves in front of me. It was done too quickly, and my tremors returned as we climbed in the car. My lip grew moist with sweat and my stomach began to roil as Cassidy started back toward Angelville.</p><p>“Please don’t make me go back there,” I whispered. I felt small, and selfish, and curled in on myself as I said it.</p><p>Cassidy’s knuckles whitened against the steering wheel. “It’s th’ only way t’ get her back, Juniper.” I pulled my thighs to my chest again, wrapping my arms around them. He reached over and squeezed my knee with one large hand. “It’s th’ only way.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as me. “But soon as she’s back we’ll fuck off t’ wherever we want, alright?”</p><p>“Promise me.” I was sure I couldn’t be audible with my face pressed against my knees, but he gave another little squeeze before he pulled his hand back to the steering wheel.</p><p>“I promise.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoy, and hope you made it through the great AO3 outage of 2021 without too many emotional scars.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0035"><h2>35. Revitalization</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper begins to realize that leaving Angelville won't be as easy, or as quick, as she hoped.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jesse was still gone when we returned. My feet dragged as we crossed the foyer to the voodoo room, balking of their own accord. Cassidy and I piled our collection of Tulip’s favorite things on a low table next to the dentist’s chair. Madame L’Angelle was still sitting over Tulip, a bizarre collection of powders and bottled liquids at her side.</p><p>“Is Jesse not back yet?” Cassidy asked, kneeling next to Tulip’s body.</p><p>“Soon. Or better be,” the witch said coolly. She plucked a scorpion pepper from a bowl beside her and took a large bite, groaning as she chewed.</p><p>“What’s that?” Cass asked, nodding at the pepper. I swallowed the urge to remark on Irish cooking never using anything spicier than salt—not the time.</p><p>“Scorpion pepper,” the witch explained. “Sometimes, if the spirit senses your pain, it’ll come back to ease it.” Cassidy nodded his understanding. “Maybe she’ll come back for yours.” She held the bowl out to us, and we each took a pepper—I jerked back quickly; the idea of touching her papery skin filled me with revulsion.</p><p>I bit into the pepper, closing my eyes as the first wave of heat rolled over me. When I opened them again, Madame L’Angelle’s gaze was shifting between Cassidy, Tulip, and me. She wore a speculative expression, with a hint of a secretive smile around her eyes. “Years ago, I loved someone who loved another.” The rising flush from the pepper covered my blush, and I was grateful. Cassidy coughed, choking on the heat. “I tried to woo him. Everything, anything, to move his heart to mine. But nothing worked.” Cassidy continued to cough, sweat streaming down his face. My lips began to numb as the heat spread down my throat and up my nose. “And I was beautiful, too.” Cassidy shook his head and began to spit out the pepper, but the witch stopped him with a sharp glance. “Nuh-uh. Leave it. The more it hurts…the more it helps.” He nodded and kept chewing, coughing and gagging, his fists balled at his sides. My eyes were streaming, the tears mixing with sweat that beaded on my face. “Anyway…nothing worked. I just wanted to be wanted back. So I made him a draught. A spell…An old recipe from slavery days. I made it, I mixed it, and I sprayed him with it. And it worked.” She smiled at the memory. A hot fist squeezed my heart, and I couldn’t seem to stop my eyes from sliding to Cassidy’s face—the most beautiful face in the world to me, snot, sweat, tears, and all. “From then on, he wanted me and only me. Day, after day, after day. Until I killed him.” Her eyes refocused as she returned to the present. She held out a shallow wooden bowl, and Cassidy spit his pepper into it gratefully. She held it toward me and I held her eyes as I swallowed, lifting my chin stubbornly. The pepper seared as it slid down my throat and my stomach felt filled with smoldering embers. “I’m so grateful to you both for bringing Jesse back to us. If either of you ever wanted anything in return…all you have to do is ask.” She held my eyes, her gaze cunning, until I broke the connection and looked away.</p><p>A roaring engine approached the house, then abruptly cut off. “That’ll be Jody,” the witch said, and the motor of her wheelchair whirred as she left the room. Cassidy stood to follow, grabbing his umbrella from where it leaned against the table of favorite things. I began to hear exchanged blows and cries from outside.</p><p>He peered back at me over the rim of his sunglasses, still standing next to Tulip. “Yeh comin’?” I shook my head, avoiding his eyes. He shrugged and left me behind.<br/>~~~~~~<br/>We laid the favorite things in an arc around Tulip as Madame L’Angelle forced a funnel between her teeth and taped it into place. I paced up and down the room as the witch mixed a potion—I leaped into the air and spun to face her at a sudden growl, but it was only the noise of a small bullet blender. She used a medicine dropper to allow a single drop of the liquid Jesse had brought to fall into the mouth of the funnel, and then poured in the lumpy grey liquid she’d mixed.</p><p>We waited. Nothing happened.</p><p>“Why isn’ it workin’?” Cassidy finally burst out.</p><p>The witch appeared unaffected. “Sometimes it takes time to figure out how to come back. And sometimes there’s not enough reason to come back at all.” Her eyes flicked to Jesse, leaned over Tulip’s body, and a cruel smile played at the corners of her mouth.</p><p>“<em>Bullshit</em>,” Jesse snapped. “She’ll come back. She has to come back.” He took one of Tulip’s cold hands in both of his and leaned in close, murmuring to her, too low for us to hear.</p><p>Acoustic guitar chords jangled through the quiet room, and Jesse glared at Cass. “It’s her favorite,” he said by way of explanation. I recognized the song as one Tulip had played when we were cleaning Dennis’ apartment, it felt like years ago. She’d sung along, offkey but joyful, as she patched drywall holes, spattering the floorboards with errant gobs of plaster. I smiled at the memory even as tears filled my eyes.</p><p>The song played on. Jesse continued his murmuring in Tulip’s ear. I ceased my pacing to stand with Cassidy, clinging to him with cold hands. We waited, and we watched, and each second that ticked by filled us with dread.</p><p>Tulip’s back arched suddenly, her mouth gaping wide as she dragged in a gasp of air—her first in hours. She lay back, panting, her eyes wide and staring from face to face and then taking in the room around us. The room blurred as my eyes filled again, my face split in a wide grin. Cassidy laughed in relief, a beaming smile radiating across his face. I stretched to kiss him, but his eyes were locked on Tulip, and he didn’t see me. I kissed his scruffy jaw and turned back to Tulip.</p><p>Tulip’s eyes fell on the witch for the first time, and her expression grew more confused. “Who the hell are you?</p><p>The witch drew herself up to her full height. “<em>I </em>am Madame L’Angelle, and I’m the one who gripped your soul and pulled it back from purgatory.”</p><p>“Isn’t that from Supernatural?” Cassidy asked.</p><p>“My granma,” Jesse muttered. He helped Tulip to rise from the bed slowly. “C’mon. My room’s upstairs. Can you two get the bags?” He didn’t look at us as he asked, and Cass and I exchanged exasperated looks before following them to the foyer.</p><p>Jody was lurking in the foyer, leaning against the wall. He was impossibly huge, a head taller than Cassidy at least, with fists the size of cinderblocks and massive, bullish shoulders. He appeared not to notice or care about our presence as we spilled from the voodoo room, cleaning his nails with a long bowie knife. I ducked my head and glued my eyes to the floor, following Cassidy’s heels as he headed for the door.</p><p>A gigantic pair of brown boots blocked my path. I craned my neck to look up into Jody’s face, and my heart leaped into a thundering sprint that I was sure he could hear. Cassidy halted and looked back at me, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.</p><p>“What’s your name, girl?” His face was friendly, but the bowie knife was still held loosely in one baseball mitt hand.</p><p>“Juniper,” I answered automatically.</p><p>The friendly tone slipped just a bit, and the grip on the knife tightened. “Juniper <em>what?</em>”</p><p>“Juniper…Cassidy,” I supplied, hoping I was quick enough.</p><p>Jody jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Cass. “Thought that one was Cassidy.”</p><p>“Aye, I go by me las’ name, usually. Firs’ name Prawnshuss.” He thrust a hand forward for Jody to shake, but Jody ignored it and turned back to me.</p><p>My jaw was seized in an aching iron grip, my face lifted and twisted toward the light. My heels left the ground and my toes scrabbled at the floor for purchase. “You got weird eyes, Juniper Cassidy. You got family ‘round here?” A cruel grin twisted one side of his mouth.</p><p>“Leave her be, Jody. Ain’t no <em>rougarou</em> trash stupid enough to come round here,” Jesse cut in. He was watching from halfway up the stairs, his stance relaxed, his voice an easy drawl.</p><p>Jody scoffed, but let me go. I stumbled away from him, rubbing my jaw. “You mind that wife o’ yours keeps outta trouble, <em>Prawnshuss</em>,” he said, brushing past me and deeper into the house.</p><p>“Right,” Cassidy said. “Come along, mother.” He opened his umbrella and stepped out the door, and I hurried after him. I held my tongue until we had the trunk open and were unloading bags.</p><p>“Why are we getting unpacked? Why aren’t we leaving?” I hissed, trying to keep my face pleasant, or at least passive, in case of an audience.</p><p>“I dunno! Maybe there’s some sorta aftercare for comin’ back from th’ dead, d’ya think?” He was struggling to juggle the bags and his umbrella, so I hoisted one of my bags onto my shoulder and held the umbrella handle with my newly free hand. He flashed a grateful smile and we made our way back into the house. Jesse was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, Tulip evidently having been settled already. He kept his eyes on the wall above my head, refusing eye contact.</p><p>“Spare bedroom is this way.” He turned without another word and without offering to take a bag and led us up the steep staircase to a small, stuffy room with a single bed. “Bathroom’s down the hall. Towels in the linen closet.” He turned on his heel and was gone before I had the chance to speak.</p><p>I closed the door quietly, listening for the click of the latch. The moment I was sure it was closed, I crashed to the floor, my legs shaking and useless. I clapped both hands over my mouth to quiet my shallow panting. Cassidy joined me on the floor, rubbing slow, small circles on my back. I crawled into his lap and rested my head on his shoulder, trying to be comforted by the solid closeness of him. “I don’t want to be here,” I breathed, afraid of lingering ears outside the door.</p><p>“I know, <em>mo stór</em>.” He continued his soothing circles against my back.</p><p>“You promised we could go.” I knew I was being unfair, but I didn’t care.</p><p>“It’s jus’ th’ one night. Jus’ until Tulip feels herself again,” he murmured.</p><p>A hot seed of resentment bloomed in my stomach. “Prawnshuss is a <em>stupid</em> cover name,” I grumbled.</p><p>His body shook as he chuckled. “It’s <em>Proinsias</em>.” He said it slowly, and his accent made it soft and musical where mine had ruined it. “An’ it’s my real name. Proinsias Cassidy.”</p><p>“Oh.” My cheeks heated. “Sorry.” He offered me his hand as if we were meeting there for the first time, with me curled up in his lap on the floor. I shook it timidly, feeling guilty. “<em>Prawn</em>sheeus,” I tried, attempting to imitate his smooth intonation.</p><p>He wrinkled his nose. “Best stick with Cassidy,” he said, and returned my glare with a grin. He gave me a final squeeze and gently shooed me off his lap to stand. “I’m gonna check on Tulip. Are yeh comin’?”</p><p>I folded my legs against my chest and wrapped my arms around them. “I really don’t want to be around Jesse right now.” I kept my eyes on my knees, feeling guilty. “But tell her I’m glad she’s okay.” My eyes flicked to his face. He was frowning, but he nodded once and left the room.</p><p>Being in Angelville at all was bad, but being there alone was worse. I shifted a bit on the hardwood floor, trying to find a comfortable position. The bed would be better, but my body was frozen in place; I couldn’t force myself from my curled up arrangement sitting on the floor.</p><p>The door creaked open and I scrambled to my feet and to the far side of the room. Jesse. I felt my lips draw back from my teeth. “<em>Get. Out,</em>” I growled. He didn’t listen, naturally.</p><p>“I’m sorry, about the…” He gestured to the left side of his face, where he’d punched me.</p><p>“<em>That’s</em> what you’re sorry for?!” My voice began to rise, and he shushed me. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. I groped blindly behind me and hurled the first object I touched with all of my strength. The lamp sailed across the room and smashed to pieces against the wall next to his head.</p><p>He was on me before I could find another weapon, my wrists caught in his hands and again pinned to my sides. I thrashed against his hold, my jaws snapping. He drew me in close to him and then slammed me hard against the wall. I saw stars and tasted blood as my teeth clacked together over my tongue. “<em>Stop it</em><em>! </em>Listen to me,” he hissed furiously. I glared up at him, the fight gone out of me. “I understand you’re mad. I shoulda told you who I was. But what would the point have been? I wasn’t that person anymore, I’d moved on. Then with Tulip…I just panicked. What else was I supposed to do?”</p><p>I spat at him. “Murderer.” Sputum rolled slowly down his chin and dripped to his shirt. His jaw clenched and his grip on my wrists tightened.</p><p>“Yeah. So’s Tulip. So’s Cassidy. And so’re you.” He let me go and took a step back to wipe his face with a much-abused handkerchief he pulled from his pocket. “I didn’t have a choice about what I was any more’n you do.” I glared at him silently, and his shoulders seemed to sag a little. “Just…keep your head down. We’re leavin’ first chance we get.” He turned to leave the room.</p><p>“Jesse,” I called after him. He stopped, but didn’t turn. “Where’s Cassidy?”</p><p>“Our room,” he said shortly. “Came to check on Tulip and fell asleep.”</p><p>With that he left, closing the door behind him, leaving me alone in the dark.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0036"><h2>36. Featherstone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper talks to Tulip for the first time since her resurrection.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alone in the room I was meant to share with Cassidy, I perched on the bed, the blankets pulled over my lap, my eyes on the door. Surely it wouldn’t be long before Cass woke up (or was woken by Jesse), realized he’d left me alone in this waking nightmare of a house, and came back.</p><p>…Surely.</p><p>…Surely?</p><p>I snatched my phone from my bag. If he wasn’t going to wake up on his own, I’d wake him up. I groaned as I scrolled through the messages I’d missed from Mama.</p><p>
  <em>Safe flight!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Take sunscreen!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Have you landed?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Pictures!!</em>
</p><p>I glanced at the time. 12:46. She’d already be asleep, but it would be worse if I waited until morning. <em>Jesse Custer = Jesse L’Angelle. I’m stuck at Angelville, no ride out. </em>My thumb hesitated over the send button. I chewed a fingernail and stared at the message. I knew, if I sent it, that I could have family here in a matter of hours and be gone. Never have to see this place again. But I also knew, if I sent it, that the <em>very</em> uneasy peace between the wolves and the L’Angelles would be over. And the L’Angelles would jump at the excuse to start picking us off again—werewolves in the tombs are good business.</p><p>I deleted the message. <em>Bimini is beautiful! Will email when I can—roaming fees! </em>As soon as the ‘sent’ icon appeared I turned off the phone and flung it away from me before I could change my mind. I went back to staring at the door, pulling absently at a frayed edge of the blanket, willing Cassidy to come through it.</p><p>How could Cassidy leave me alone here? I’d told him what this place, the people here, had done to my family. He’d seen how badly being here affected me. He’d seen that Tulip was fine, and resting, and would be ready to travel in the morning. And he still left me, to be with her. I knew it was irrational, that Cassidy <em>probably</em> hadn’t fallen asleep and left me on purpose, and that he’d been clear from the start that Tulip was his priority. But I leaned into the resentment, because if I was using all of my brain power to resent Cassidy then there wasn’t room for imagining who might be creeping up the stairs to drag me screaming to fight in the tombs.</p><p>With dull surprise I realized that I’d severed some vital component of the blanket, and it was unraveling in my hands.<br/>
~~~~~~<br/>
I was running. The tunnel stretched out forever in front of me, dark other than a single light that beaconed from a doorway at the limits of my vision. Rank water dripped down the grey brick walls, dampening the floor. Heavy footsteps plodded along behind me, unhurried, composed, inescapable. There was a low, grating rasp as Jody dragged the tip of his bowie knife along the brick. My muscles strained, my heart pounded, my lungs ached, but I couldn’t seem to gain ground on the sound of the footsteps.</p><p>The doorway grew closer. There was a black figure standing there, their back to me—or were they facing me? I stretched out my hands, pleading. I tried to scream for help, but my mouth seemed glued shut. The door was closer now. The dark figure watched me approach, his expression unreadable. I was nearly there. The footsteps grew louder behind me. I gathered myself for one final sprint to the door, to the light and safety it promised.</p><p>My fingers brushed the doorframe just as Jesse’s face twisted in a savage grin and he slammed the door in my face, leaving me alone in blackness.</p><p>I jolted awake with a gasp and was surprised to find myself bathed in slanting morning light. My breath coming in sharp pants and my body soaked with sweat. Cassidy stood just inside our room, a steaming mug in each hand. I breathed deeply, willing my heart to slow from its wild sprint.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Cassidy blurted. He crossed to the night table, dodging the shards of ceramic from the broken lamp, and placed one of the cups down gingerly. He then danced several steps back, as though afraid I would hit him, and eyed me nervously.</p><p>I took a wary sip from my coffee mug. My eyes closed as I savored—he’d made it perfectly; sweet and creamy and only just recognizable as coffee. I shot him a small smile. “You really know how to butter a girl up.” I curled my hands around the mug, enjoying the warmth. Some of the tension eased from his body and he sat on the edge of the bed, sipping from his own cup.</p><p>“Yeah, well…lots o’ practice,” he said with a wry smile. “I really didn’ mean t’ leave yeh. I jus’ was watchin’ her breathe, an’ I got t’ worryin’ that if I looked away, when I looked back she’d be…like she was. Stupid.”</p><p>My resentment drifted away like dandelion seeds on the breeze, and I took his hand and squeezed it warmly. And something was different. I twisted my head so my right ear was facing him. “Say something.”</p><p>“Somethin’,” he parroted, grinning sardonically. My stomach flipped and a smile bloomed across my face. My hearing was back. Cassidy drained his coffee mug in one go and began rummaging through his pillowcase-become-rucksack. He dug out new clothes and began to change with a complete lack of modesty, and I watched appreciatively. When he shimmied out of his pants they <em>thunked</em> to the ground with more force than normal. “Ah! Almos’ forgot.” He rummaged through the pockets and tossed me a bag of beef jerky and a packet of skittles—the snacks I’d requested for our flight. “Breakfast in bed, courtesy o’ Tulip.”</p><p>I tore open the bag, suddenly ravenous. It was half gone before I spoke again. “How is she?” Guilt pricked my conscience for not asking sooner.</p><p>“Still sleepin’ last I knew,” Cassidy said, buttoning his shirt. “She seemed alright last night. Tired. Was askin’ after you but figured yer t’ing wit’ Jesse is your business.” He finished dressing and I caught his hand, pulling him to closer to the bed. I wrapped my arms around his trunk and rested my head against his stomach, and he stroked my hair absently. “I was gonna go check on her again, see about gettin’ the fuck outta here. You comin’?” My stomach twisted, the memory of nightmare Jesse still fresh in my mind, and I clung tighter to Cassidy. I shook my head against him, and he sighed minutely. “If she’s feelin’ up to it, I’ll see if she’ll come to you, alrigh’?” I nodded. He pulled out of my embrace gently, and lifted my chin to kiss me sweetly before leaving me alone again.  </p><p>When he’d gone I got changed; I’d fallen asleep in the same blood-spattered clothes that I’d worn from New Orleans. I gathered my laundry and Cassidy’s, along with my toothbrush and toothpaste, and cracked the bedroom door. The hall was empty. I sprinted to the bathroom like a child fleeing up the stairs after turning off a basement light.</p><p>My face in the mirror made me sigh. The bruises on the right, from the Saint, were a sickly yellowy green, but healing. My left was newly purpled along the cheekbone from Jesse. At least his fists were smaller than the Saints. I scrubbed my face with cold water and brushed my teeth. I patted my face dry, feeling a bit more human, and ran the water in the tub on cold. I tossed our bloody clothes in and knelt on the bathmat to scrub at the bloodstains. When I’d done as much as I could (which was not very much), I drained the tub and tossed the clothes over the curtain rod to drip dry.</p><p>Again I cracked the door and peaked into the hall. Cassidy and Tulip were audible from a couple of doors down, and I started toward their door. Then I heard Jesse speak up. The dark tunnel, the drag of the knife, the echoing slam of the door flashed before my eyes and I hurried back to my room, shutting the door fast behind me and leaning against it.</p><p>The time crawled. I finished my bag of jerky, nearly choking on the silica packet as I tilted the bag to pour out the last few morsels. I paced the room, opening drawers at random and peering into the wardrobe. I kicked the broken pieces of lamp into a pile next to the door and made a mental note to find a broom and dustpan to finish the job. I flopped on my back on the bed and traced the gossamer cobwebs that crisscrossed the ceiling with my eyes.</p><p>When I ran out of cobwebs I grabbed my packet of skittles and wandered to the window, gazing out as I absently popped the candies into my mouth one by one. I grinned a bit as I recalled the fastidious methodology Cypress applied to eating them—always all of the purple, then all of the red, then all of the yellow, green, and orange. If he found a color after he’d moved on he always made one of us eat it. My grin faded as the temptation to call my family and tell them where I was washed over me. I swallowed the urge with a final, massive handful of candy.</p><p>Movement caught my eye and I spotted Tulip striding away from the house, a six-pack of beer swinging from her hand. She was alone, no Jesse to be seen. I slipped my shoes on, trying to ignore the way my heart lurched into a pounding gallop. I hesitated with my hand on the doorknob. Surely, <em>surely</em> I could make it outside without someone murdering me. My eyes strayed to the pile of debris that had once been a lamp and I grabbed one of the larger pieces of ceramic. It was triangular, with a blunt end and a wicked-looking point. I tucked it into my waistband and opened the door the hall.</p><p>I lowered my body into a half-crouch, sliding my feet along the floor rather than lifting them to avoid creaking boards. When I reached the steps I clutched at the ornate railing and kept to one side; Ash had told me once it was the best way to prevent noise. Halfway down the steps I caught myself and straightened. I was meant to be acting like a normal, human houseguest, and normal human houseguests don’t skulk and creep. I forced myself to bounce noisily down the remaining stairs, pasting a cheery smile on my face. The front door was so near, five long paces and I’d be out. But immediately adjacent was the door to the voodoo room. I ordered my feet to move, but of their own accord they swerved away from the door.</p><p>There was a voice in the kitchen: a rough, drawling Angelville voice. I stopped again, trapped between the voodoo room and whoever was speaking. Cassidy spoke up in response to the voice in the kitchen and I sped toward the sound of him.</p><p>Cass was with TC at the table, with some kind of tank and hose between them—my first thought was that it was a shop vac. What would have been the vacuum hose was attached to a mask that could be fitted over the nose and mouth, and they were alternating taking deep honking breaths from it. There was a door leading outside just beyond the table.</p><p>TC noticed me first and beamed, flashing a mouthful of yellowed teeth. “Mornin’, Missus Cassidy!” He offered me the mask, from which emanated a sweet medicinal smell. “Would you like some numberer?” I glanced at Cassidy, who had sprawled back in his chair to grin at me dotingly, his eyes adoring and slightly vacant.</p><p>“Uh…No, thank you, TC.” I tried for a polite smile. “I’m just gonna see if I can catch up with Tulip.” I crossed the kitchen toward the door, but Cassidy stopped me short with a hand around my wrist.</p><p>“Give yer ole man a kiss,” he requested, and I did. My head grew light as the last remnants of the <em>numberer</em> drifted from his lungs and into mine. I eased back and entwined my fingers behind his neck. “I love yeh, <em>mo stór</em>.” He flashed the crooked smile that always filled my stomach with butterflies. I felt a weightlessness that wasn’t from the wisps of mind altering substance in the air. I searched his face wonderingly, but it was open and earnest. I kissed him again, savoring him this time.</p><p>When I pulled back his eyes were large, and they slid very slowly and pointedly over my shoulder to TC. My soaring heart plummeted to the ground. “I love you too,” I muttered, and hurried outside into the sun.</p><p>Tulip had stopped to lean against a rusted metal barrel among a collection of discarded wood and refuse. Her head was back, her eyes closed and throat working as she finished a beer. I hesitated a few feet away, hooking my thumbs in my pockets. “Hey.”</p><p>She walked away without answering to balance the empty beer can on a nearby fence, several paces down from another can. When she returned she cracked another beer and drank deeply. “Hey,” she finally said.</p><p>“I’m really sorry I haven’t been around, it’s not you, it’s my own shit, I’m really, really glad you’re okay and I’m sorry I didn’t do better,” I blurted out in a rush.</p><p>She eyed me coolly over her beer while I waited, my stomach in anxious, twisting ropes. “We’re good,” she finally said, and my body sagged. “Cassidy said you kept your shit together pretty good back there. I appreciate it.” She paused while she finished the drink in her hand. “But if you ask me what bein’ dead is like I’m gonna shove this can up your cooter.” She handed me one of the two remaining beers and opened the last one for herself, clunking the can against mine. “What happened to your face?”</p><p>I touched my cheek, still swollen and tender and, I was sure, very purple. “Tried to get between Jesse ‘n Cass when they were goin’ at it,” I said, grinning bashfully. I moved her gun over and hopped up to sit on the barrel, sipping slowly.</p><p>“Well that was stupid.” She leaned her hip against my thigh, and I relished the warm weight of her. “You know what their deal is? Jesse an’ Cassidy?”</p><p>I took a long slug from the beer to buy some time and wiped my upper lip. “Nope. Maybe they lost their one shared brain cell somewhere along the way.” She huffed a laugh and went back to staring out at her makeshift target range. I toyed with the tab on the can until it fell off and into the beer with a plunk. “I think it just really freaked us all out, thinking you were gone.” I leaned closer, breathing in her scents of leather and beer and nicotine, and was pleasantly surprised when she leaned into me too.</p><p>She upended her can, finishing her third beer in five minutes with no apparent effect. “Yeah, well, all of you can knock it off, cause I’m good now.” She eyed me, clearly impatient, and I chugged the rest of my beer and followed it with a massive belch. Tulip took the empty can from me and laid it out on the fence with the others. When she returned she began to line up her shot, then hesitated and offered me the pistol, barrel first. “You wanna try?” I shook my head, and she shrugged and took aim.   </p><p>The fencepost vaporized in a blaze of noise and light. I shrieked and recoiled; the empty barrel I sat on overbalanced and suddenly I was staring up at the clouded sky, gasping for air. Dazed, I tried to sort out exactly what kind of pistol Tulip was using that could do that.</p><p>“I was shootin’ at those!” She was angry. I struggled to sit up, still trying to suck air into my uncooperative lungs.</p><p>“So was I,” came the reply, low and amused. Jody. I froze. He leaned to leer at me around the barrel. “You alright there, Mizz Cassidy? You seem a lil jumpy.”</p><p>I renewed my struggles to get to my feet and off of my back; Tulip gave me a hand up. I busied my hands brushing off my backside so he wouldn’t see them shake. <em>Normal human houseguest. Normal human houseguest. </em>“I’m alright!” I said with what I hoped was a smile and not a grimace. “Just easily startled.”</p><p>His leer stretched wider. “Then you’s in the wrong place.” I dropped my gaze to my shoes and he turned his attention back to Tulip. “You Jesse’s dead lady friend?”</p><p>Her face took on the expression that usually immediately preceded violence—eyebrows raised, lips pursed, head cocked. “I ain’t dead, and I ain’t a lady. My name is Tulip.”</p><p>He nodded, his expression approving. “I’m Jody.” He laid his bazooka on one of the metal drums with a low clang. “So. What was it like?”</p><p>Tulip rolled her eyes, and I couldn’t repress a smile. “Why does everybody keep askin’ me that?!”</p><p>Jody shrugged his massive shoulders. “You died ‘n den came back, what else is there to axe you about?”</p><p>She raised her chin obstinately. “<em>Well</em>, I don’t remember,” she said with evident relish. Her pettiness made me smile.</p><p>“Nuttin’?” Jody asked disbelievingly. “No…bright lights, no angels singin’?”</p><p>“Guess not.” Tulip turned back to the last can standing on the fence and took aim again, a clear dismissal.</p><p>“You like guns, huh?” Jody pushed.</p><p>Tulip turned back to him, exasperation written through her body. “I like guns that take more skill than blowin’ away <em>other peoples’ beer cans</em>.” A prickle of unease worked down my spine, and I hoped she wouldn’t push him too far.</p><p>Jody stepped closer to us, lowering another gun from his shoulder, and my body went rigid with the urge to bolt. He held the gun out for Tulip’s approval. “Like this’un? For instance?” She stepped closer to admire it and I clenched my fists to stop myself from yanking her back to me. It was imposing, and kind of beautiful, inky black with a thick barrel and hollowed stock. She rattled off the rifle’s name and specifications, her voice quietly awed. “You got one can left,” Jody urged, nodding to it.</p><p>Tulip tucked her pistol into the back of her jeans and took the gun, handling it reverently. It was massive next to her tiny frame, and I wondered how she would possibly stay standing when it fired. She squinted one eye shut and glared through the scope. Her brow furrowed as she pulled back, gazing at something beyond the fence. Her face twisted into a disbelieving expression. “<em>Screw</em> the can,” she said, thrusting the gun against Jody’s chest. “We’re goin’ huntin’.” She jerked her head at me and sprinted across the scrub. I took off after her, automatically falling to her flank, cursing and stumbling over the uneven ground and snagging grass that slowed my human feet.</p><p>Tulip threw herself into a bush and I heard her grunt. “<em>Get off me!</em>” someone snarled. Tulip stood, clenching the intruder’s shirtfront in her fists.</p><p>I stumbled to a stop. “Jenny?” Her hair was cropped short, but it was her.</p><p>“This—is the <em>bitch</em>—who killed me!” Tulip explained between blows. I started into the bushes, but Tulip stopped me with a quick glare. “She’s <em>mine!</em>” She emphasized the statement with a left hook that sent Jenny crashing to the ground, then turned to me, beaming, with her fists propped on her hips. “It’s good to be alive.” She nodded at the unconscious body on the ground. “Help me out.”</p><p>I grabbed Jenny’s wrists, and Tulip took her feet. Together we dragged her over the lumpy ground, Tulip taking evident relish in allowing her senseless body to bump and jolt over rocks and debris. “<em>Jenny</em> killed you? Sunday school, PTA Jenny?” Jody was tromping toward us, restraining a nervous-looking man in a white suit.</p><p>“She’s one of those fascist Grail freaks that was watchin’ us. Her name probably ain’t even Jenny,” Tulip panted, glaring down at the still body between us.</p><p>At her name (or was it?) the woman’s eyes popped open and she began to struggle. “Let me <em>go</em>,” she snarled, flecks of spit flying from her lips. “Wolf bitch! Dog! <em>Abomination!</em>”</p><p>Jody and his hostage were trudging closer—close enough to hear her out me. In a panic I kicked her swiftly in the side of the face and her head drooped back to bounce over the uneven ground again. Jesse and Cassidy came hurrying from the house as we converged with Jody. He’d already bound his prisoner, and he tossed Tulip a length of rope to do the same. She knelt and tied Jenny’s hands tightly.</p><p>“Stop!” Jesse cried. Tulip stared at him disbelievingly. “Tulip, <em>stop</em>.”</p><p>“This is the <em>bitch</em> who killed me,” Tulip explained, jabbing her finger at Jenny’s face.  Confusion crossed Jesse’s face, followed comprehension. He took the snub-nosed revolver that rested Jody’s hand and leveled it at the other spy’s face.</p><p>“Does Starr know that Tulip is alive?” he growled. The man swallowed hard and nodded. Jesse drooped. “<em>Shit</em>.”</p><p>“Who are these people?” My mouth dried as the haughty voice cut across the clearing. I turned slowly, willing my expression to stay neutral. The witch was there, her hair flying in wild black tendrils around her face, her eyes dark, no less imposing for the two canes that supported her. TC stood with her, the sinewy muscles of his arms flexing under his skin, his friendly expression from earlier replaced with an ugly sneer. I took an involuntary step back.</p><p>“They’re the ones that shot Tulip,” Jesse explained. “We’re gonna take ‘em out to the swamp and put a bullet in their brains, right?” He deferred to Tulip, a crooked smile crossing his face.</p><p>She grinned widely. “<em>Hell </em>yeah,” she said eagerly.</p><p>“Good,” the witch said simply. “Take Jody with you.” Jody grinned eagerly as Jesse’s smile faded. Jenny was beginning to stir, and Tulip yanked her to her feet. The tread pattern of my shoe stood out in sharp relief on her cheek. “And the girl stays here,” the witch added. I turned slowly. Her eyes rested on me, cold and penetrating, though her lips were twisted into a smile.</p><p>I turned my eyes to Jesse, pleading, but his only response was a small nod. A steely grip closed on my bicep, and my nose filled with the sweet medicine smell from the kitchen and stale sweat. TC. Cassidy’s expression was cool, but he paused to take my hand as he brushed by. “We’ll be back soon, <em>mo stór</em>,” he murmured, brushing a kiss across my knuckles.</p><p>“See you in a bit,” I responded, trying to fix my face into some approximation of a smile. TC allowed me to watch their retreating backs for a moment, then tugged me along.</p><p>We trailed along behind the witch at a creeping pace as she made her way back to the house.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! I'm loving writing this and can't wait to share more with you!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0037"><h2>37. The Boyds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper, Cassidy, Tulip, and Jesse hatch a plan to get out of Angelville.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Madame L’Angelle made her slow, careful way back to the house and into her voodoo room, and TC guided me in after her with his iron grip still trapping my arm. The witch lowered herself onto an antique-looking red fainting couch.</p><p>“I’ll put some tea on,” TC said, and he was gone. I scanned the room, stepping closer to one of the recessed shelves to examine a collection of leather-bound books with French titles.</p><p>“Won’t you sit?” Her voice was soft, and sweet, and I could hear the strain that our trek from outside had put on her weak lungs. I could almost imagine that I was a guest here, and not a prisoner.</p><p>“No—” I cleared my throat and tried again. “No, thank you.” I continued my busy examination of her books, desperate to avoid looking at her. “Where are these from?” I tried. “They’re beautiful.”</p><p>“I said <em>sit</em>.” Still soft, but the sweetness and any hint of breathlessness had gone; the voice had become steely and cold. I swallowed hard and joined her on the couch, shrinking back against the arm to avoid her touch. TC wheeled in a tea tray with two steaming porcelain cups, a tiny pitcher of milk, and a bowl of sugar cubes with a pair of miniature tongs. As I watched she dropped two sugar cubes into her cup and stirred, then took a ladylike sip. In her floor-length dress, her ankles neatly crossed, she was every inch an antebellum socialite. “Now,” she said, resting her teacup neatly on a saucer. “How did you come to know my Jesse?”</p><p>I realized I was tearing at my cuticle and forced my hands to still in my lap. “I was…we were--” I amended myself quickly, recalling my faux marriage to Cassidy, “—on our way out west, and our car broke down. Jesse let us stay in his daddy’s church.” Her lips pursed when I mentioned All Saints, and I wished I could claw back my reference to it.</p><p>“Your Irish couldn’t fix the car for you?” she asked, one eyebrow twitching upward.</p><p>“Um…it could have been fixed, but the transmission blew. We didn’t have the money.” I was grateful to be able to answer with the truth. “We were going to save up for a new one, or a new car.”</p><p>She eyed my cooling, untouched cup of tea. “It’s rude, to turn down what a hostess offers you,” she said pointedly. I swallowed as I eyed the innocent-looking pale liquid. The tongs clattered against the porcelain bowl as I added a sugar cube to my cup and took a quick, very small sip. It tasted normal. I wondered if her potions and spells had a taste to them. “How long have you and Irish been married?” she asked.</p><p>I seized upon the first number that flashed into my mind. “Five!” I blurted. “…years. Five years. Feels like less,” I added with what I hoped was a wistful smile.</p><p>She picked up her teacup again. “Five years and he hasn’t gotten you a ring?” She tapped the nail of her pinky against the porcelain. The soft clink she produced seemed to fill the room.</p><p>My gaze flashed down to my hands. They’d flexed automatically but I curled them into fists again to still my shaking. “I…kept losing them. Him too. We’re awful for it.” I swallowed hard.</p><p>“And how long has he been in love with this…Tulip?” Her voice was soft, and kind, and I found my eyes inexorably drawn to hers. Her face was full of the empathy that can only come from losing a lover to someone else, and I longed to open up to her. In some distant and deep part of my mind klaxon alarms were blaring, but I couldn’t quite remember why.</p><p>Madame L’Angelle folded a handkerchief into my hand, and I realized my eyes were wet. I dabbed at them, embarrassed. “Um…a few months, I think? Almost since he met her.” I remembered the night that he took me out drinking, with the intention to use me as a sad placeholder, and sniffled deeply.</p><p>“<em>Faithless</em>,” Madame cursed, full of righteous anger. “Gutless, lying—”</p><p>“No,” I interrupted. “No, he’s never lied.” At the interruption a wrathful, wraithlike expression crossed her face, and for the briefest of moments her eyes were two shards of ice chipped from an Arctic glacier. Then the impression was gone, and I wondered if I’d seen it at all.</p><p>She leaned forward secretively, patting my knee like a doting mother. “We could make him yours, you know. It would be easy. Like he never knew she existed.”</p><p>Possibilities danced across my mind’s eye—Cassidy and me taking in twinkling amusement park lights from the top of a ferris wheel, feeding each other exquisite morsels at a black-tie restaurant, spending entire days in bed together, wrapped in each others arms. With no mention of Tulip, no hesitation or regret in his eyes when I said I loved him. Cassidy saying he loved me, and meaning it…</p><p>The front door creaked open and Cassidy’s voice bellowed through the house, rich and real and present. “Honey? <em>I’m home!</em>” I jumped, jolting the tea tray and spilling my cup. I scrambled to sop up the tea with my handkerchief, apologizing feebly.</p><p>When I turned back to Madame L’Angelle her lips were twisted in an ugly sneer. While I watched, the serene smile fell back into place across her face, though it didn’t touch her eyes. “Think about it,” she said softly, giving my knee a final pat. I recoiled from her touch, unthinking.</p><p>Cassidy appeared and leaned against the doorframe, greeting me with his beautiful half-smile. “Is it done?” I asked, standing quickly.</p><p>“<em>No</em>,” Tulip replied sulkily, and I heard her bootheels clunk heavily up the stairs. I raised my eyebrows, and Cassidy jerked his head toward the hall.</p><p>“Let’s go, <em>mo stór</em>. We’ll get yeh caught up.” He stretched out a hand to me and I took it gratefully and followed him to the room Tulip and Jesse shared, feeling the witch’s cunning eyes on me as I went.</p><p>Tulip had claimed the bed and was glaring haughtily at Jesse, who stood at its foot rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding her eyes. Cassidy and I crossed to a creaky loveseat that released a puff of chalky dust when we sat. I pulled my thighs to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, and Cassidy leaned forward with one elbow on his knee, the other hand resting on one of my socked feet.</p><p>My eyes flicked from Cassidy to Tulip to Jesse as I awaited an explanation, but no one offered one. “So…what happened?” I hazarded. My words were a match to a dynamite fuse.</p><p>“He <em>let them go!</em>” Tulip whisper-shouted, stabbing an accusing finger at Jesse.</p><p>“I told you <em>I had to!</em>” Jesse shot back. Cass and I seemed forgotten as they devolved into a half-whispered, furious argument about whatever had happened in the swamp.</p><p>I leaned into Cassidy, my eyes on Jesse and Tulip, wondering if their fight would escalate to a physical one. “Fill me in?”</p><p>Cassidy leaned in conspirationally, but he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Jesse and Tulip either. “Right, well…we get out to the swamp, right, ‘n Tulip is ready to do whatsername. Then Jess says no, we c’n do better, or worse as it were. So we took ‘em out to th’ water where that big fella has an organ grinder—<em>do not</em> eat the consommé, by th’ way—‘n he’s showin’ off tossin’ all kinda critters in there when Jesse starts yellin’ that th’ one’s escaped, the bloke, ‘n while we’re off chasin’ him he let the bird go as well.”</p><p>Tulip finally seemed to run out of steam and turned away from Jesse, silent. He took his opportunity, speaking fast while she let him. “Granma’s never gonna let me go, Tulip. I <em>need</em> Genesis back to beat her, so I need my soul back, but Starr’s never gonna bring it back unless he thinks I’m still with him!” She finally looked at him; she was listening. “I wanted to tell you, but everythin’ happened so fast! And Jody was there…look, I just need ‘em to trust me. Once I get Genesis back…”</p><p>Tulip jumped on it, glaring at him, daring him to contradict her. “<em>Then</em> we kill them, right?”</p><p>“We kill ‘em all,” Jesse said flatly. My eyebrows twitched up in surprise at his earnestness. “Granma, Jody, the Grail…soon’s I get my soul back from Starr, I will kill him there and then.” He said this last with quiet eagerness that made my stomach clench. “But I need your help.”</p><p>Tulip held his eyes for a long moment before turning to Cassidy and me. “What do you think?”</p><p>I blew out a long breath, thinking. “Honestly, I’m on board with anything that gets us the fuck outta here,” I said finally. The three of us turned to Cass, who rubbed a hand over his stubble.</p><p>“I t’ink it sounds like another plan,” he drawled, looking tired. Then he winked at Tulip, and I lowered my eyes and pulled at a snag in the fabric of the couch. “But sure. Let’s go kill some people.”</p><p>“Alright,” Jesse said, joining Tulip on the bed. “We’ll need a distraction, somethin’ to keep Granma and Jody and TC out of the house while I talk to Starr.”</p><p>“We could stage a cousin fucking contest,” I muttered sullenly, and Cassidy snorted. Jesse shot me a glare.</p><p>“House fire?” Tulip suggested. Jesse shook his head, twisting his ring as he thought.</p><p>“The <em>boys</em>,” he breathed suddenly.</p><p>“What? What boys? Who th’ hell are the boys?” Cassidy asked.</p><p>“Boy<em>ds</em>,” he snapped. “If we get ‘em to attack Angelville, Jody ‘n TC won’t come back til they’re gone.”</p><p>“How are you going to get them to attack at a specific time…?” I was getting invested in spite of myself.</p><p>“We make ‘em mad,” Tulip said, beginning to smile. She rose suddenly and crossed to the dresser, where some of the favorite things we’d collected were still amassed. She picked up the tiny remote control Chevelle and turned to Jesse with a wild grin, which he returned.</p><p>“You know we can’t go downstairs for shit, it’ll just be what we can find up here,” Jesse cautioned.</p><p>Tulip’s grin widened. “Good. The challenge makes it fun.”</p><p>“Sorry…” I interrupted hesitantly. “What are we doing?”</p><p>“Toy car bomb,” Tulip explained gleefully, waving the miniature Chevelle at me. My eyes bugged open, and she laughed. “Don’t worry, it ain’t our first rodeo.”</p><p>“Right.” Cassidy stood and stretched his interlaced fingers out in front of him, popping his knuckles. “The pipe variety, I assume?” My eyes bugged further.</p><p>“Yeah…” Jesse said, his eyes far away as he thought. His eyes fell on the open bathroom door and he nodded sharply. “Yeah, that’ll be easiest.” He strode into the bathroom and stuck his head under the sink. He rummaged around for a minute, examining a bottle here, a container there, before he pulled out to look back at us. “Almost everythin’s here,” he said. He ducked into the cabinet again and began twisting and pulling at a length of the pipe under the sink.</p><p>I picked at a hangnail, weighing my reluctance to get involved against my very strong desire to get the fuck out Angelville. “What can I do?” I finally asked in a small voice.</p><p>“Go t’our room, see if you c’n find…” Cass screwed up his face as he thought. “Matches, there should be some in my bag. ‘N mothballs. ‘N we’ll need a cotton fuse so if yeh have any cotton things yeh don’ mind partin’ with, tha’d be perfect.”</p><p>“Matches, mothballs, cotton,” I repeated to myself. I checked to make sure the hall was clear before I made my way to our room, forcing myself to walk at a normal pace rather than to tiptoe.</p><p>I felt guilty going through Cassidy’s pillowcase, even though he’d just asked me to. I laid his things out neatly on the bed, trying to keep some semblance of the order with which I’d pulled them from the pillowcase. The matches were near the bottom—one and a half books from the Mumbai Sky Tower. The mothballs were easier to find; it was clear from a quick sniff that there were some in the wardrobe and after a moment of digging through cobwebby, ancient clothing I was able to find them. I piled the mothballs and matches on the bed and picked through my clothes until I found a shirt that I wasn’t overly attached to and that was labeled 100% cotton. I packed my finds into my pockets and rejoined Cassidy, Tulip, and Jesse.   </p><p>There was an odd collection of items spread across the duvet when I closed the door behind me. The length of pipe that Jesse had wrestled from under the sink, a caulk gun and caulk, a can of hairspray, and a container of crystal clog remover. I added the mothballs and matches to the assortment, but Tulip looked sulky when she spotted the tank top I’d chosen.</p><p>“I picked that one out for you,” she said, clearly insulted. Jesse rolled his eyes.</p><p>Cassidy snagged it from me and neatly tore away the bottom inch or so of the shirt, just above the seam. “She c’n hem it up again ‘n you’ll never know the difference.” He grinned proudly at Tulip, who snorted. I returned to the dusty couch to observe, my head tilted curiously. Jesse plucked up the pipe and the caulk gun and neatly plugged one end with some overlap, creating a thick grey cap on the end of the pipe. His steady circular motions and the texture of the caulk reminded me bizarrely of frosting a cupcake. Tulip lifted the wide strip of cotton from my shirt and soaked it in hairspray, then whipped it in circles to dry it. They both turned to Cassidy, watching him expectantly.</p><p>He looked from one to the other bemusedly before realization crossed his features and he sighed gustily. “Alright, <em>fine</em>,” he muttered. “But if I blow up you two’re doin’ the cleanup.” He grabbed up the pipe, caulk gun, hairspray-soaked fabric, mothballs, matches, and Drano and stomped into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Tulip and Jesse watched the door expectantly; we could hear a steady stream of low oaths and cursing.</p><p>“What’s he doing?” I murmured to Tulip.</p><p>“Fillin’ the pipe with the explosive stuff,” she responded. She didn’t take her eyes from the door. “It’s the part that sometimes doesn’t go so well.”</p><p>Their anxious faces and tense stances suddenly made sense, and I swallowed hard and reminded myself that even if he did blow up, he’d probably be less hurt than any of us. The thought was not entirely reassuring.</p><p>Hours later (or so it seemed), the click of the door’s latch made us all jump. Cassidy emerged, grinning triumphantly but with sweat still beaded across his forehead. The caulk gun dangled loosely from one hand, and in the other was the sink pipe, plugged with caulking at both ends now, with the strip of my shirt hanging from one end like a dynamite fuse—because it was, I realized.</p><p>Tulip snagged the caulk gun from him and squeezed a thick line down the underside of the remote control Chevelle, then pressed the pipe bomb against it, sticking it in place. She carefully balanced the Chevelle on its roof so that the bomb could adhere to it as the caulking dried. She turned to face Jesse, her face triumphant. “<em>It’ll just be shit we can find up here</em>,” she mocked, and Jesse scoffed, grinning at her. His eyes searched the room and landed on an ancient polaroid camera. He turned it over in his hands ponderously before placing it next to the Chevelle and turning to us.</p><p>“Cass, Tulip, you two’ll go piss off the Boyds at first light. They don’t take long to organize, so you’ll have to hightail it back here so Granma don’t think you have somethin’ to do with them bein’ pissed off. I’ll get her out of the house. When the Boyds roll up I’ll make like I’m goin’ to help drive ‘em off and meet with Starr. Get my soul back. Then we kill ‘em all.” Cassidy and Tulip grinned at each other, their eyes lighting up with the promise of impending violence.</p><p>“What can I do?” I asked from my spot on the couch. Jesse raked a hand through his hair as he thought; I suspected he’d forgotten I was there.</p><p>“Keep your head down. Pack your things. Don’t turn into a giant dog,” he instructed finally. I shot him a sardonic double thumbs up. Jesse sank down on the bed next to Tulip, who was near to vibrating with excitement. He squeezed her knee, then his hand began to creep up her thigh. “We should all get some rest. We got a job to do tomorrow.” He shot Cassidy and I a very pointed stare with an unmistakable meaning. </p><p>Cassidy snorted softly, but offered me his hand with a cheeky smile. “Shall we?” I took it, and he gave a great heave that brought me crashing against his side. He wrapped his arm around my waist as I laughed, and turned back to Tulip. “Until mornin’, then?”</p><p>She returned his smile, though her mind was clearly on Jesse and his creeping fingers. “Yeah, Cass, I’ll see you in the mornin’,” she said.</p><p>Cassidy led me down the hall toward our room but not fast enough; we could hear moaning and smacking lips before we’d closed their door behind us.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>!!!!!!!This chapter is not intended as instructional content! Do not do the things in this chapter!!!!!!!</p><p>(This applies to the whole fic, and the series as well, but ESPECIALLY this chapter.)</p><p>I hope you enjoyed! Comments and critique are always welcome, y'all keep me going. &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0038"><h2>38. Firefight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tulip, Cassidy, and Juniper put their plan to piss off the Boyds into action.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I undressed absently, still wondering at the fact that I’d just helped build a <em>bomb</em>. I flinched and a short squeak escaped me as something crashed to the ground at my feet, and blinked bemusedly at shards of ceramic that seemed to have appeared from nowhere. My improvised weapon from that morning, I remembered dully. I pulled on the remains of my torn tank top and crawled under the blanket, bumping my head against Cassidy’s elbow until he obligingly lifted his arm so I could rest my head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around me, running his fingers up and down my arm from shoulder to elbow, his other hand tucked behind his head as he drowsed. I trailed my fingers over his skin, dipping into the shallow divots between his ribs and tracing his hipbones, reveling in the closeness of him.</p><p>“I’m glad you didn’t blow up,” I said softly, and he gave a low hum of amusement.</p><p>“You ‘n me both, <em>mo stór</em>.” He shivered a bit as my fingers skated too lightly over his ribs. “Tickles.”</p><p>“Sorry,” I murmured, pressing a bit harder. “Where did you learn to make bombs?” I asked cautiously.</p><p>His hand stilled on my arm and he gazed at the ceiling quietly for a moment. “<em>Éirí Amach na Cásca</em>,” he said quietly. He seemed to come to himself and met my eyes with a small smile. “Easter Risin’. In 1916.” It was my turn to go still, and he chuckled darkly. I nuzzled closer to him and resumed my soft trails over his skin.</p><p>“I forget, sometimes,” I explained, flushing. Curiosity gnawed at me; I wanted to know every detail of his hundred and nineteen years, but I bit my tongue. He’d rarely offered information, and it seemed to be by design.</p><p>“Makes watchin’ historical dramas <em>very</em> frustratin’ when yeh were there ‘n know full well they’ve bollocksed it,” he said with forced humor.</p><p>I bit my lip, my stomach twisting at his clear unhappiness. After a moment I straddled his lap, twining his fingers in mine. “Is <em>that</em> why you hate Big Lebowski?” I asked, my voice innocently curious.</p><p>“<em>No</em>, that’s not why I hate the bloody Big Lebowski!” He was well and truly distracted, incensed by the mere mention of the cinematic bane of his existence. He tugged his hands free from mine to tick off the film’s shortcomings. “It’s got next t’ no storyline, th’ plot it has got is barely coherent, yer protagonist is a great bloody—” I interrupted him with a kiss, prying his surprised lips open with my tongue. His hands tangled in my hair and he moaned softly into my mouth as our tongues entwined. He deepened the kiss and with his scent in my nose, his taste in my mouth, his hands in my hair, the world around me fell away. Everything was him. I nipped his lower lip sharply before I pulled away, earning a sharp gasp from him. I smirked down at him as I caught my breath. “Minx,” he accused, but he was smiling—a real one.</p><p>I dipped down for another kiss, intending for it to be light and sweet, but as his lips brushed against mine I was seized with sudden want of him. I ground my hips against him, smiling into his mouth when I felt his cock pulse against me through the blankets. He yanked my tank top over my head and his eyes raked down my body. “Yeh’re so goddamn sexy,” he murmured, and I flushed deeply. He struggled out from under the blankets and wriggled out his boxers, his cock already hard and standing tall. I shed my panties, tossing them to the floor. We met on our knees in the middle of the bed, tangling together in a mass of groping limbs. I ran my hands over his chest, down his arms, along his sides, coming to cup his round, firm ass in my hands. I couldn’t get enough of his body against mine, his skin under my hands. “What d’yeh want?” he whispered huskily.</p><p>“I just want you,” I murmured, blushing. He trailed kisses down my neck to my collarbone and sucked gently, making me gasp and squirm.</p><p>“’S it alright if we try somethin’ new?” He warm breath spread goosebumps across my skin, and I nodded helplessly. He laid back on the bed and gently guided me to straddle his lap again. I began to lower myself onto him, but he stopped me with his hands on my hips. “Turn around,” he said, and the quiet authority of his voice sent a thrill through me. I turned until I was facing his feet, my back to him. “<em>Now</em>,” he murmured. I lowered myself onto his cock, shuddering deliciously as I stretched to take him. He groaned throatily from behind me—I twitched my hips and smirked at the little hitch it gave his moan. “Brace yerself on my thighs, if yeh need to,” he instructed, and I did. He guided me up and down, thrusting to meet me each time my hips plunged downward. I whimpered and gasped, the new angle bringing new sensations that made me weak. Behind me, Cassidy sat up, bracing my hips so I wouldn’t fall forward with his movement; his chest pressed to my back as I continued my steady up and down rhythm. One of his big hands reached around to knead my breast, brushing over my nipple lightly, and I threw my head back, gasping. His other hand snaked over my hip, between my legs, and found my clit. I released a strangled moan and my rhythm faltered as he began drawing slow circles there, growling softly against my neck as he felt how slick I was. My hands clenched on his thighs and I lost my rhythm completely, thrusting against the hand that teased my clit.</p><p>The hand froze, drawing a high whine from my throat. Slowly I picked up my rhythm again and the gentle, feather-light circles against my clit began anew. “Tha’s a good girl,” Cass growled against my neck, sharp teeth brushing my skin.</p><p>“Fucking…tease…” I gasped between pants. The only response was a throaty chuckle behind me. I whined again; his cock filled me in the most delicious way but I ached for the same pressure against my clit. I bucked against his hand and he drew away, rubbing his hand over my folds instead. I hissed through my teeth. “You are…the <em>worst</em>.” I squeaked as my rhythm evened out and he found my clit again, the torturously soft, barely-there circles returning.</p><p>“Yes,” he agreed. I could hear the smile in his voice. His breathing began to quicken, and I increased my pace along with it. He pressed harder against my clit, and I moaned loudly as the new pressure sent me rocketing toward orgasm. He bucked his hips, thrusting roughly to meet me, each of his breaths accompanied with a soft growl. I felt my nails digging into his flesh as I drove myself down onto his cock again and again. “<em>A Dhia!</em>” His hips bucked and stuttered and I felt his cock pulse as he filled me with cum.</p><p>“<em>Oh</em>, Cass!” My hands grasped his thighs still harder as my pleasure peaked, rolling over me in waves. He caught me as my body sagged, lowering me sideways to the bed to spoon me, his breath warm on my neck and his cock still resting inside me.<br/>
~~~~~~<br/>
“Come wit’ me,” Cass murmured, some time later. I gradually floated to wakefulness from a deep drowse—I was wonderfully comfortable, with Cassidy’s warm chest against my back, his arm under my head, and he’d pulled the blankets over us as I dozed.</p><p>“I thought I just did that,” I slurred sleepily, and his quiet laugh shook the bed.</p><p>“<em>T’morrow</em>,” he clarified. “Wit’ Tulip ‘n me.”</p><p>“To the Boyds? With the bomb?” He must have felt me tense, because he began the slow shoulder-to-elbow-and-back strokes that always soothed me and kissed my hair lightly.</p><p>“I’ll feel better if I don’ have t’ leave yeh alone wit’ this bunch of inbreds,” he explained.</p><p>“It’s just a distraction, right? Not to hurt people?” The idea of being alone in the house with the L’Angelles was repulsive, horrifying even, but so was the idea of blowing up people who’d never hurt me.</p><p>“That’s th’ plan,” he reassured me. “Then Jesse’s soul. Then we kill th’ bog witch. Then home.”</p><p>I nibbled my lip. “Okay,” I said finally. “I’ll come.”</p><p>“<em>Good</em>.” He sounded deeply satisfied and squeezed me closer to him. Within moments his gentle, familiar snores fill the air.<br/>
~~~~~~<br/>
“<em>Cass!</em>” I snapped awake to a pounding on the door. “<em>CASSIDY</em>!” And a very irate Tulip.</p><p>“<em>Shite</em>,” Cass groaned, rolling to a sitting position. “Give us a minute!” He groped on the floor for clothes blearily. I hopped out of bed and rummaged through my bag, sacrificing function for speed and yanking my sunflower sundress over my head and high tops with no socks onto my feet. I danced from foot to foot while I waited on Cassidy, who tried to shove his foot through an arm hole several times before he realized he wasn’t holding pants. I flung the door open while he was still struggling into his shirt.</p><p>Tulip stood at the doorway, her arms crossed, a backpack over one shoulder, looking furious. “<em>First. Light. </em>What th’ hell don’t you two understand about that?”</p><p>“I know, I’m sorry…”I brushed past her to rush down the stairs and wait at the door.</p><p>“You’re comin’ with us?” Tulip looked surprised. “…for…breakfast?” she added with a quick glance toward the voodoo room. She joined me at the door and we watched Cassidy shamble down the stairs, a ridiculous umbrella hat in hand, still wrestling with his shirt buttons. I frowned—he was wearing my leggings, though on him they only reached mid-calf. But I was fairly certain that if I caused any more delay Tulip would kill one or both of us, so I bit my tongue.</p><p>“Cass asked me to come,” I explained. I waited for Cass to pull the strap of his hat down around his head before I opened the door and stepped out into the early morning sun.</p><p>“So between two grown ass adults, neither of you can set an alarm,” she said grumpily, sliding into the Chevelle and carefully setting her bag on the back seat. Cassidy smoothly cut in front of me to take shotgun, smirking in response to my glare, and I flopped into the back. The car lunged forward before I’d shut my door, kicking up a cloud of dust in our wake.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Tulip. It won’t happen again,” I offered feebly.   </p><p>“<em>Hm</em>,” she responded. She punched a button on the radio display and electric guitar blared from the speakers, grating against my still-bleary brain.</p><p>“Dragonforce, very nice!” Cassidy shouted over it, plucking the lightning-fast cords in the air. I shrank down in my seat, squinting my eyes shut against the onslaught.</p><p>I was grateful that the Boyd place wasn’t too far down the highway. Tulip switched off the noise as we approached a rundown motel—the London Lodge, the sign said. She slowed to a crawl and pulled in close to the front office, with the nose of the Chevelle peeking out just far enough that we could see six heavyset men who lounged outside the motel, just watchful enough to make it clear that they weren’t there by chance. Tulip reached into the back blindly, groping for the bag, and I placed the strap in her hand. She yanked the bag up front and pulled the miniature Chevelle and its remote from the sac.</p><p>“Be a bit funny if we came all this way ‘n forgot to put batteries in it, eh?” Cassidy said, snorting with laughter. Tulip glared at him over the rims of her sunglasses. “No, that wouldn’ be funny. Wouldn’ be funny at all.” He glanced back at me, his eyes dancing, and I grinned down at my lap.</p><p>“How are they gonna know this was Jesse, anyway?” I asked suddenly.</p><p>“Because we’re gonna <em>tell them</em>,” Tulip said, exasperated. She pulled a polaroid of Jesse and a roll of scotch tape from the bag. “We took this while y’all were havin’ a lazy morning.” Having finished attaching the photo to the car, she leaned out her door to place it gingerly on the ground. She moved to light the fuse, then hesitated. She picked the car back up and fiddled with the controller’s joysticks. The little car’s wheels spun obediently.</p><p>“Batt’ries! Good!” Cass said, and she glared at him again. She put the mini-Chevelle back down and lit the hairspray-and-cotton fuse, then promptly steered it toward the man closest to us. I chewed a fingernail as I watched the little spark at the end of the fuse recede. The RC car bumped his foot innocently, and he leaned down to pluck the polaroid off its frame. I saw him begin to duck for cover and then he was overtaken by column of fire and smoke. Before the blast had died away Tulip was peeling out of the lot and back onto the highway.</p><p>I stared open-mouthed out the rear window. “…We did that?” The smoke billowed toward the sky in great black clouds.</p><p>Tulip was laughing ecstatically. “<em>Yeah</em> we did!” Her voice was a triumphant crow. “You popped your IED cherry, girl!” She was grinning at me in the rear-view mirror, and I tentatively returned it. “<em>Man</em>, I ain’t made a toy car bomb since I was a kid. One of my foster dads was into explosives.” She paused. “And freebasing. I can’t remember which one burned his eyebrows off.”</p><p>“Isn’t freebasing like…skydiving but from buildings?” I couldn’t imagine how someone would manage to burn themselves doing that. They both laughed, but then Tulip caught my earnest expression in the mirror.</p><p>“Oh, bless your heart Juniper. Our formative years were very different.” She smiled at me in the mirror, and her earlier irritation appeared forgotten. We all turned our attention to the highway, stretching out empty in front of us under the cloudless sky. I inhaled deeply, grinning. It was the type of day where possibilities felt endless.</p><p>“We could jus’…keep drivin’, yeh know,” Cassidy said, his tone landing just left of casual.</p><p>Tulip’s smile faded. “We’re in the middle of a job, Cass.”</p><p>“<em>Jesse’s</em> job,” he shot back sullenly.</p><p>“It’s <em>our job,</em>” she snapped, exasperated.</p><p>“Right, a job we wouldn’ bloody have to do if Jesse hadn’t buggered everythin’ up!” he pushed. “An’ when he gets Genesis back, what then? He goes back to bein’ their Messiah?”</p><p>“He said he wasn’t doin’ that anymore,” Tulip said.</p><p>“Since when?” I blurted out.</p><p>“While you were hidin’ in your room by yourself, I guess.” My mouth clicked shut and I gazed out the window.</p><p>“Yeah, well. I wouldn’ blame yeh for questionin’ his word, after everythin’ that’s happened,” Cassidy muttered.</p><p>“What’s what supposed to mean?!” Tulip demanded. I sank down in my seat, beginning to fear for Cassidy’s wellbeing.</p><p>“It means I’ve just got a little leery of listenin’ to what Jesse bloody Custer has to say all the time, you know what I mean?”</p><p>“What is <em>up </em>with you guys, huh?” Tulip sounded incredulous under the anger.</p><p>“It’s me,” I cut in. Cassidy’s eyes caught mine in the mirror. “Angelville just freaks me out and I’ve been getting after Cass to leave.”</p><p>Tulip glared ahead, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. “Well, we’re <em>not leavin’</em> without Jesse. He gave up his soul for us! He saved us from the Saint, remember?”</p><p>“Saint wouldn’t have been after us if he’d given Genesis back in the first place,” I grumbled, staring out the window again.</p><p>“Yeah, well, he didn’t, and now we’re gonna deal with it, <em>together</em>. So get over it,” Tulip snapped.</p><p>We passed the rest of the drive in uneasy silence.<br/>
~~~~~~<br/>
Jody and TC were already stationed outside in the same spot where Tulip had been shooting cans when we got back to Angelville. TC leveled his rifle at us as we roared down the driveway, but Jody swatted it down again.</p><p>“What’s goin’ on?” Tulip called, climbing out of the car. I followed hesitantly and heard Cassidy cursing as he wrestled with his hat behind me.</p><p>“Boyds found out Lil Jesse is back,” TC explained. “They on they way right now!” As he spoke the distant growl of large engines filled the air. Jody threw back the edge of an orange tarp to reveal a massive pile of guns. I edged closer to look.</p><p>Cassidy’s hand stretched toward Jody’s bazooka. “Ohh, that…that’s cool.” Jody clutched at it possessively, eyeing Cassidy aggressively. Cass withdrew. “Or you have it. I’m easy.” He folded his hands behind his back and stepped away. Jody continued staring.</p><p>“What’s with the hat?” He jerked his chin at Cassidy’s ridiculous umbrella hat.</p><p>“I got skin cancer,” Cass replied smoothly. “Worst kind. Mela…tonin,” he finished, somewhat less smoothly. “Runs in th’ family.”</p><p>Jody handed him the bazooka stock first. “Doubt you’ll need it. Boyds’re probably just blowin’ off steam.”</p><p>Cassidy grinned broadly as he examined the weapon. “Well, better t’ have it, know what I mean? Just in case.” Four massive pickup trucks rolled up the gate, with four men to a truck, and I swallowed.</p><p>I selected a smaller rifle, lifting it gingerly. I fumbled at its unexpected weight. Tulip, having finished inspecting her weapon, raised an eyebrow. “Have you…ever used a gun before?” I flushed deeply and shook my head. She allowed her gun—the big black rifle from the day before—to hang at her hip as she instructed me. “This part goes against your shoulder, or you’re gonna be in a world of pain,” she said, pointing at the end of the stock. “Safety is here,” she pointed. “Flip that when you wanna fire. <em>Flip it again when you are done,</em>” she said, very slowly and clearly, holding my eyes. I nodded. “Every time you fire, you’re gonna pull this back ‘til it clicks, then let it go. Here,” She took the gun from me and loaded it, her hands moving so fast I couldn’t have repeated the action if my life depended on it. “You’re gonna have ten shots. Sight along here,” she pointed to a little nub that stuck out from the top of the barrel, “—with your right eye. Got it?”</p><p>“Yeah,” I said. As she patted my shoulder and turned away there was a massive blast from one of the trucks. Cass, Tulip and I hit the ground while TC and Jody watched impassively. Something buried itself in the dirt behind us—something moving.</p><p>“What the hell is that?!” Cassidy shouted.</p><p>TC looked unconcerned. “That is a goat. It’s uh…pygmy male, ‘bout six years of age…nearly deceased.” Sure enough, the goat’s legs twitched feebly as we watched.</p><p>“Why a goat?!” I blurted out.  </p><p>“Voodoo telegram,” Jody replied. I lowered my eyes, cursing myself for drawing his attention. “It’s the Boyd way o’ sayin’ they want Jesse dead.”</p><p>Tulip glanced at him, shocked. “What did Jesse do to ‘em?”</p><p>“Murder,” Jody said.</p><p>“Sex,” said TC.</p><p>Tulip’s eyes flipped between them. “Well which one is it?”</p><p>Jody smirked. “Why don’t you go axe ‘em yourself?” He pointed toward the road, where we could hear engines revving again.</p><p>“Too late.” TC sounded disappointed. “They’re drivin’ away.”</p><p>I breathed a sigh of relief and hoped we’d given Jesse enough time to get his soul back.</p><p>An explosion pitted the road in front of the Boyds’ trucks. “Whoops!” Cassidy wore an embarrassed, hangdog look. The trucks jolted to stops and began turning around.</p><p>Jody grabbed the bazooka from Cassidy. “God<em>damnit!</em>” They ducked behind the collection of barrels and I followed. Jody handed Cassidy a small pistol, glaring at him as he did.</p><p>“Stay down,” Cassidy was muttering to me. “Yeh don’ straighten up til you’ve heard ‘em go, alright?” I nodded. My mouth felt like cotton; all of its moisture seemed to have migrated to my palms.</p><p>The Boyds opened fire. The thunder of it crushed against my ear drums; my eyes squinted nearly closed and my lips drew back from my teeth in a grimace. I clawed uselessly at the trigger of my rifle for several seconds before I remembered to flip the safety off so I could fire. The stock jumped against my shoulder and my ears began ringing, I shook my head dazedly. I yanked on the bolt but it wouldn’t move, I glared at it as I wrestled with it. I felt someone’s hand yank my shoulder down and realized I’d been gradually straightening as I struggled. “I said stay <em>down</em>!” Cassidy roared.</p><p>“It’s stuck!” I yelled over the thunder. He reached over and cranked the bolt sideways; it slid back smoothly and I fired again. I knew the trick of the bolt this time, and fired off a third shot quickly. Cass fell backward suddenly, cursing. “Cass?!”</p><p>“Oh <em>bollocks</em>,” I heard. “I’m alright!” In my periphery I saw TC dive to his knees beside Cassidy.</p><p>“They’re on the run!” Jody called, and TC was back on his feet, the two of them sprinting after the Boyds pickup trucks.</p><p>I knelt next to Cassidy. He’d been hit in the shoulder, just over his collarbone. “You good?”</p><p>“Nothin’ a drink can’t fix,” he said, smiling reassuringly.</p><p>Tulip watched until the Boyds were gone before she joined us. “Jesus, Cass…you sure you never ate some kinda giant bullet magnet?” I popped back up to watch for Jody and TC to return.</p><p>“I s’pose anythin’s possible love,” he said, poking at his wound gingerly. “Least they don’ kill me, unlike you.”</p><p>A slow grin spread across Tulip’s face. “Oh, yeah, right, rub it in, huh?”</p><p>“Well, I mean it!” The joking was gone from his face, and I felt a prickle of possessiveness. I looked back over the scrub; Jody and TC were still firing after the Boyds. “I mean it. Watchin’ you die, like that…” He caught himself suddenly, and grinned again. “I mean the smell alone was bloody unbearable, y’know what I mean?”</p><p>“I did not <em>smell</em>!” She turned to me. “Juniper, did I smell?”</p><p>I managed a smile. “Well—”</p><p>“Like an animal been layin’ out there on the road for a couple days, except worse,” Cassidy interrupted, beaming up at her. She burst out laughing at that, and glowed as she smiled down at him. She covered his hand with her own, squeezing gently.</p><p>“I love ya, Cass,” she murmured, her thumb stroking his wrist. The prickle became a hot stab and I swallowed hard, watching his reaction from the corner of my eye.</p><p>He gasped sharply, his expression softening to unbearable tenderness as he gazed at her. There was no guilt in his face, no remorse or apology for the feelings he lacked, as there always was when I told him I loved him. Only reciprocation, clearly readable in every line of his face. “I…I…” he seemed unable to gather himself, and irrationally, horribly, I was glad.</p><p>“You got blood bags in your room?” Tulip asked, standing. She seemed totally unaware that anything significant had passed, while I reeled, my heart aching.</p><p>“Maybe,” he grunted.</p><p>“I’ll come with you,” I said shortly. I clanked my rifle down on the barrel and stalked toward the house, not waiting to see if Tulip followed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Pronunciation and translation of Cassidy's Gaelic bits:</p><p>mo stór: my dear<br/>https://forvo.com/word/mo_st%C3%B3r/#ga</p><p>Éirí Amach na Cásca: Easter Rising<br/>https://forvo.com/word/%C3%A9ir%C3%AD_amach_na_c%C3%A1sca/</p><p>a dhia: my god/oh god/you get the idea<br/>https://forvo.com/word/a_dhia%21/</p><p>As always, thank you so much for reading! This machine runs on comments and coffee, so feel free to drop one (a comment, don't drop coffee, that's just sad)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0039"><h2>39. Numberer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper takes page from Cassidy's coping mechanism handbook.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I stood at our bedroom window, peering out to where Cassidy still lay on the ground, his face covered by his umbrella hat, and strangled my stubborn concern that his unprotected hands might burn. The door creaked behind me; I tilted my head but didn’t turn.</p><p>“Thought you were comin’ up for blood bags?” Tulip said grumpily. I scooped to grab Cassidy’s cooler bag and tossed it to her; it smacked into her chest as she caught it.</p><p>“Sorry,” I muttered, turning back to the window. I heard the zipper, and the sloshing of bags of blood, and a soft sigh.</p><p>“Are you comin’ back down?”</p><p>“I’m gonna stay up here for a while. All the shooting gave me a headache.” I glanced at her with a strained smile. She turned to leave, the hesitated in the doorway.</p><p>She didn’t look back at me as she spoke. “I don’t like it like this, you know. Hurtin’ him.”</p><p>I swallowed the sharp retort that battered against my lips and took a deep breath before I responded. “Yeah, I know.” I watched her back as she went and curled up on the bed that Cass and I shared, still rumpled from our rapid departure that morning.</p><p>My stomach felt carved hollow, and my throat ached. So stupid—hadn’t he told me from the very beginning that Tulip was the one he loved? Hadn’t he reminded me, again and again with his refusal to say the words, that I was his second choice? I rolled onto my back and hated the tears that spilled down to my temples and into my hair. He’d always been starkly honest with me about his feelings (<em>his lack of them</em>, a voice whispered cruelly), but the knowing of it and <em>seeing</em> the effect she had on him, the bottomless tenderness he had for her…it was different. Until this morning there had been a small part of me that was quite sure that after all our time together and what we’d been through I’d moved up in his estimations. But that part was wrong. I rolled onto my side again, trying to ease the hollow feeling inside me by balling up tight.  </p><p>There was movement on the stairs. Cassidy’s pained moans were familiar and easily recognizable, and I curled in on myself further, wiping my eyes hurriedly. “Come on now, jus’ a little further, you doin’ alright, you doin’ fine…” TC continued his mumbled encouragement until they reached the doorway. Cassidy’s arm was slung around TC’s shoulders, and the tank of numberer and an ancient leather doctor’s bag dangled from TC’s free hand. “Oh hey there, Missus Cassidy. I’ll get your mister fixed right up, I don’ want you worryin’ about a thang.”</p><p>I stood and brushed past them, avoiding Cassidy’s eyes. “Yeah, thanks TC,” I said. I stumbled down the stairs, nearly pitching over when I missed a step. Jesse was in the hall, his brow furrowed and his fists clenched. I searched his face, hoping. “So?”</p><p>“No,” he ground out, and stomped away.</p><p>I sighed heavily and trudged into the kitchen. Jody was there, slurping busily from a large bowl, but the thrill of fear I felt at the sight of him was muted. I slumped at the table, scratching at the rough grain. There was a break in the slurping behind me. “Don’t you wanna be wit’ your man?”</p><p>“Don’t like blood,” I replied dully. The loud slurping and lip smacking resumed and I distantly wished I’d chosen somewhere else to mope.</p><p>Jesse swept into the kitchen. He poured himself a mug of coffee and started drinking it black, wrinkling his nose at either the taste or the heat. “You seen Tulip?” he asked me.</p><p>“Not recently.” I leaned forward to rest my chin on my arms and watched TC dully as he swept into the kitchen, switching on a burner and plunking a skillet down on it without rinsing the blood from his hands. He opened a jar and shook it over the skillet, and gelatinous red <em>stuff</em> flopped wetly into the pan.</p><p>“Your hubby a real funny man, Missus Cassidy,” he said, prodding the red stuff with a wooden spoon. “Real funny! And gotten up to so much trouble—that musta been ‘fore you got a leash on him, huh?” He laughed, a breathy, hooting sound. I forced a smile that felt false even to me. “Do he allus heal so fast?” TC asked absently, stirring the contents of the skillet.</p><p>I saw Jesse’s mug stutter in its path to his lips, and he shot me a warning glance. “Um…can’t say I’ve ever noticed,” I said, trying for neutrality.</p><p>Jody was immediately attentive, rising from his lean against the counter. “Heal fast?” TC nodded, grunting an affirmative. “Meanin’ what, exactly?”</p><p>TC seemed bewildered. “Meanin’ that he’s…healin’ fast,” he said without turning.</p><p>“Well, he’s a smartass Irishman. Prob’ly used to bein’ shot at,” Jesse said. He dumped the remains of his coffee into the sink. “I’m gonna go check on him,” he said.</p><p>“Ten minutes,” Jody reminded him, but Jesse didn’t acknowledge him. A moment later we could hear his clunking heavy footsteps on the stairs. I could feel Jody’s eyes on me like cold fingers on the back of my neck and had to fight not to shudder. The creeping sensation grew in the silence until I could have happily clawed the skin from my bones to stop it, when he suddenly wheeled and tromped out the door. I heard the screen door creak and then slam behind him and breathed a sigh of relief. But with him gone the entirety of my mental energy was able to return to Tulip and Cassidy and the fact that he would choose her over me every time, again and again, forever.</p><p>I watched TC, stirring and humming absently. “Do you have any more of that, uh…numb-er stuff?” I asked.</p><p>“Numberer? Sho I do,” he said. The contents of the skillet were apparently ready because he grabbed a glass from the cabinet and poured the steaming liquid in with an artistic flourish. “It’s in Mr. Cassidy’s room. I can bring it down, though.” He pulled a sterling silver tray from one of the cabinets and laid a lacy doily over it, then placed the glass of red stuff neatly in the center.</p><p>I couldn’t help a small smile, moved by his earnest generosity. “Thanks, TC. I appreciate it.”</p><p>He flushed and a bashful grin transformed his face. “Ain’t nothin,” he said, toeing the floor.</p><p>There was a familiar scream from above me. My eyes rolled toward the ceiling automatically, but I stayed put as TC rushed out of the kitchen with his tray, too stubbornly resentful to move. I was still in the same position when he returned, the tank of numberer in his hand, the mask bouncing along the floor. “He alright,” TC explained, though I hadn’t asked. “All parta the healin’ process.” He set the tank—the shop vac, I still thought of it—on the table and adjusted a small dial before taking a deep breath from the mask. “That should do ya,” he said. He offered me the mask, a lazy smile stretching across his face.</p><p>I pressed the mask to my face and inhaled deeply. The numberer was bitter and choking and I began to cough almost immediately. As the coughing eased my head seemed to expand and float toward the ceiling like a helium balloon, tethered by the thinnest of ribbons to the rest of my body. TC reached for the mask, and I frowned at his outstretched hand for a moment as I worked out the task of handing it to him. He took another deep breath.</p><p>“You like it?” he asked, his head lolling back, peering at me from slitted eyes. I nodded and the whole room wobbled, which made me laugh. TC joined my laughter and placed the mask in my hand so I could breathe in more of the numberer—I’d been wrong about the taste, it was very pleasant. I’d thought my balloon head had already floated to the ceiling, but it somehow drifted higher, further from my body, through the roof, the ribbon of connection between them growing ever more tenuous. I was a hot air balloon, a blimp, a satellite in orbit. I wobbled my head some more, giggling again as the kitchen wobbled with me. The room gave a great heave suddenly and I was staring up at the ceiling.</p><p>TC’s voice came from very far away, and he peered down at me from a million miles above. “You alright, Missus Cassidy?”</p><p>At Cassidy’s name I crashed back through the stratosphere to earth and just kept plunging. I was a sea slug at the bottom of the Mariana trench. I had never seen light, and I never would. Tears leaked from my eyes, dripping across my temples and into my ears. “He doesn’t love me,” I moaned.</p><p>TC’s grin faded slowly, replaced with sweet concern. “Mister Cassidy?” I nodded, and he rushed to console me. “Sho he do! I bet he love you plenty!” I shook my head, hiccupping softly.</p><p>“He loves <em>Tulip</em>,” I cried, and my tears flowed with renewed vigor.</p><p>“Lil Jesse’s Tulip?” I nodded, the worn wood floor rough against the back of my head. His face grew thoughtful, then he frowned. “Well…if Mister Cassidy ain’t love you how you want, why you stayin’?”</p><p>The words and their implications bloomed like time-lapse flowers in my mind. Why w<em>as </em>I staying? I opened my mouth to answer, then closed it again, frowning. I searched the echoing expanse of my mind for why I was still here and couldn’t find anything. I tried to stand, but the connection between my head and my body was still distant and tenuous. I rolled to my hands and knees and began crawling determinedly toward the door.</p><p>“Missus Cassidy? Where you goin’?” His voice was concerned but not close; he’d stayed in the kitchen.</p><p>I was focused on the titanic effort of coordinating the movements of my arms and legs, so my answer was stilted. “I’m…going…<em>home!</em>”</p><p>~~~~</p><p>The afternoon sun was hot on the back of my neck, and my bare heels stung with every step as they rubbed against the insides of my shoes. I smacked my lips and swallowed, trying to moisten my sandpapery mouth. Each jolt from my heels striking the gravel of the road’s shoulder sent a bolt of dull pain across my temples. I kept my head down, my eyes squinted nearly shut against the light, my arms crossed.</p><p>With every step I fought against the temptation to give up and go back. For the last two hours or so, stubbornness and resentment had won over humility and common sense, but they grew more evenly matched all the time.</p><p><em>There is </em>no reason <em>to go back</em>, I reminded myself. <em>They don’t want you. They don’t need you. You’ve just been getting the shit kicked out of you for the last three months for people who don’t care. Go home.</em></p><p><em>They’re your friends!</em> The reasonable voice was growing louder. <em>They have needed you, and home is an eighty-mile walk. You’re being ridiculous. </em>I aimed a savage kick at the gravel, trying to silence the infuriatingly rational voice.</p><p>A car slowed along the side of the highway next to me and I flapped a hand at it irritably, shooing it away. “Juniper? What the hell are you doin’?” Tulip. Hot tears pricked the corners of my eyes and I turned my face away.</p><p>“I’m going home!” I snapped.</p><p>“You’re <em>walking</em> home?” She sounded incredulously amused. “Ain’t your family on like…the other side‘a New Orleans?” She parked the Chevelle on the side of the road and got out to lean against it, hanging her sunglasses from her collar.</p><p>“Yes,” I responded sulkily.</p><p>“Is this because’a Cass?”</p><p>“No!” My response was too fast, and I saw her smirk. She opened the passenger side door and jerked her head at the car.</p><p>“Let’s go get your shit. Then if you still wanna go home, I’ll drive you. Walkin’ all the way there is stupid.” I hedged for a moment, but good sense and aching feet won out and I ducked into the car.</p><p>“Where were you?” I asked sullenly.</p><p>“The city. I fucked up, and I’m the reason those Grail assholes didn’t give Jesse back his soul. So I was tryin’ to fix it. But they’re gone.” Her knuckles tightened on the steering wheel as she spoke.</p><p>“Oh,” I said quietly, and picked at the hem of my sundress.</p><p>She drove in silence for a while, and I stared out the window, counting mile markers absently. “He does love ya, you know,” Tulip said finally.</p><p>I shrugged one shoulder. “Not the same way.”</p><p>“No, not the same way,” she agreed. “But he wouldn’t talk to Jesse for ages after he made us leave you in Annville. Just sat there starin’ out the window like a big baby—like you are now. Then when we found out it blew up…” She shook her head at the memory. “He was wasted for days. You know how much whiskey it takes to keep that man shitfaced twenty-four seven for <em>multiple days</em>? I thought he was gonna cause a national shortage.”</p><p>I couldn’t help a small smile. “He never told me,” I murmured.</p><p>“’Course he didn’t, he’s a <em>man</em>. They traded in emotional intelligence for dicks.” A surprised laugh escaped me and she grinned over at me. “I’ll take you home if you want, but I’m gonna be pissed if you leave me alone with those two morons and the creepy old lady.”</p><p>“Noted,” I said. “…Are the two morons Jesse and Cass, or Jody and TC?”</p><p>“Four morons,” she corrected herself, grinning again.</p><p>For how long I had been walking, the ride back to the house was pathetically short—only a few minutes passed between her picking me up and parking next to Jody’s huge red truck. I started to get out and she grabbed my arm. “Do <em>not</em> tell him I told you about his sulky little bender thing. He’ll deny it anyway.”</p><p>I nodded, staring up at the huge white house. I smoothed my dress anxiously and wondered at the fact that after all my pleading to go, I’d finally escaped only to come back here on purpose. I turned to Tulip, but she was already striding away in the opposite direction, toward the old slave quarters. “What are you doing?” I asked, confused.</p><p>She waved a hand at me dismissively. “I’m goin’ to see about gettin’ us outta here,” she called.</p><p>My feet felt mired in quicksand as I climbed the stairs—as if each step was coated sticky fly paper. Our bedroom door was closed, and I tapped at it timidly. There was a grunt of assent from within and I cracked it open slowly.</p><p>“I <em>toljer</em> I’m not leavin’ here wit’out Tulip, so if that’s what yeh’re here fer you can—Oh.” Cass stopped short at the sight of me. He was still in bed, reclining against a stack of pillows, a bag of frozen peas pressed to his shoulder, which was still bleeding.</p><p>“Hey,” I said softly, my eyes on the ground.</p><p>“So yeh’re talkin’ t’ me again, are yeh?” He snatched an Archie comic from the nightstand next to him and snapped it open in front of his face, only to slap it shut against his thigh a moment later. “Yeh know it’s not like I’m havin’ th’ time o’ my life wit’ this love quadrangle bullshit either, alright? D’yeh think I enjoy hatin’ Jesse? An’ stringin’ you along ‘n feelin’ like a scumbag knowin’ I don’ feel fer yeh th’ same way yeh feel fer me?”</p><p>I gnawed my lip. I <em>hadn’t</em> thought about what it must be like for him. It crashed over me now as I imagined how the pain of wanting him would double and twist back on itself if I knew I was inflicting that same pain on someone else. “I’m sorry,” I murmured. “I was just…” I floundered. Just jealous? Just selfish? Just hopelessly, stupidly, helplessly in love with him?</p><p>His face softened. “I know.” He leaned his head back against his pillows and I shut the door and edged closer timidly. When he didn’t react I sat at the foot of the bed.</p><p>“You’ve never strung me along, not really,” I offered. He scoffed, turning his face away. “No, you didn’t. You’ve been honest, always.” I paused as I struggled to string words together, like trying to snatch flashing silver fish from murky water. “Anything that I’ve…assumed, or expected, beyond what you’ve offered…that’s on me.” He nodded a bit, but still wouldn’t meet my eyes.</p><p>“D’you think it would be…easier…if we stopped whatever this is?” His voice was hollow.</p><p>I swallowed back my immediate rejection of the idea and forced myself to think. Was avoiding a repeat of today’s pain losing the hundreds of moments of joy we’d shared and the thousands we still could? “No…” I said slowly. “I think, for me, it’s better to have what we do have.” I managed a small smile. “What about you?”  </p><p>He lowered his chin to think, and my heart sank as the seconds spun out indeterminably. “<em>If</em> we continue this…whatever we’ve got…yeh can’ go runnin’ off like that again. Especially when I’m laid up ‘n can’t chase after yeh.” I nodded, my eyes on the floor. “Promise me.”</p><p>I met his eyes then; they were wide, and searching, and to my surprise they were glistening. “I promise. No running off.” His body relaxed then, and he opened his good arm to me. I crawled up the bed to nestle against him with my head on his chest, careful not to jostle him too much.</p><p>“We make a right sad pair, don’ we?” He brushed my hair back from my temple, smiling down at me wistfully.</p><p>“Yeah, I guess we do,” I replied. “The sex is good, though.” That made him laugh, though the laughter made him groan in pain. I propped myself up on one elbow, eyeing his shoulder. “Why haven’t you healed?”</p><p>He scowled. “Bloody Jesse bloody stabbed me! Took th’ blood bags, too, look.” He shook the empty cooler and tossed it onto the floor grumpily.</p><p>“<em>Why?!</em>” I jolted to sit up, my hands balling into fists and my lips peeling back from my teeth.</p><p>“Somethin’ about if the inbreds find out what I am they’ll burn me alive,” Cass said sulkily. I sank back down against his chest slowly.</p><p>“Well I mean…yeah, that’s probably true,” I said with a small grin.</p><p>“Whose side are y’on, anyways?!” Cass grumbled.</p><p>I kissed his chest lightly. “Stopped clock, twice a day, something something something,” I said, and curled contentedly against his side again. Exhausted from my foray into homebrewed drugs and my long walk in the sun, comforted and cozy against him, the steady sound of his breathing soothing me, I fell asleep.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>Some kind of animal—an owl? Maybe a coyote—was kicking up a fuss outside. I frowned and snuggled deeper under the blankets. “Mm…Cass…close the window…” I reached out to prod him, but my fingers met only air. “Cass?” I opened one eye, groping at his pillow, his side of the mattress. The noise carried on outside. I lurched upright—I was alone in the room. My sleep-addled brain finally fell upon the species of the whooping animal outside; men. Loud men. Drunk men.</p><p>I stumbled to the window, panic roaring to life in my stomach. Some way distant, illuminated by an idling truck’s headlights, the massive, hulking form of Jody was lurking under the bough of a large tree. TC’s slighter frame danced around him. As I watched, Jesse strode rapidly from the house, half running, to join them. The three of them gathered to speak around a shapeless, wriggling form on the ground. My heart galloped in my chest and my fingers whitened on the window frame. As I watched in horror, Jody gave a great heave on a thick rope and the figure on the ground was hauled vertical, and then by their feet into the air. I pressed my hands to my mouth to stifle a scream. Cassidy. Bound, gagged, helpless.</p><p>I needed help. I needed someone who could fight, someone good with a gun, someone who never panicked. I sprinted down the hall as quietly as I could and knocked frantically at the door to Tulip and Jesse’s room. “<em>Tulip.</em>” My voice was a strangled hiss. I knocked faster, not daring to knock louder. “<em>Tulip!</em>” Finally I shouldered the door open, stumbling several steps into the room before I realized it was empty. My legs turned to water, and I caught myself on the bedframe before I could crash to the ground.</p><p>I forced myself to take a deep, steadying breath. Okay. Just me, then. I scanned the room for anything that might be useful for a rescue mission. There was a big silver pistol on the dresser—I grabbed it and then fumbled, trying in vain to find an effective place to stow it in the sundress I’d never changed out of. There was a folding knife too; it had been eclipsed by the huge pistol but when I flipped it open the blade was as long as my middle finger and the handle felt good in my hand. I folded it and tucked it under the strap of my bra. I crept to the window again, and my heart stopped—they were gone. After a moment I spotted them, marching Cassidy toward the slave quarters, and I was able to breathe again.</p><p>I tiptoed back to our room and dug my phone out of my bag. The screen flashed on, bright white, and I nearly dropped it in my haste to cover the light with my palm. I clenched and flexed my fist as it dawdled through start-up, fighting the urge to throw it. I ignored the flashing messages, emails, and missed calls from my family to text Tulip—<em>CASS IN TROUBLE COME BACK NOW</em>. The screen went black as I punched the send button and I released a half-shouted curse before I caught myself. I stuffed the phone into my bra and with one last glance out the window to confirm that Jody, Jesse, and TC were still prodding Cass in the same direction I made for the door.</p><p>I barely allowed myself to breathe as I inched down the stairs, one hand clinging to the railing and the other holding the huge pistol at my side. Each creak of a step, every brush of my feet over the hardwood, every breath, every heartbeat sounded to my ears like a blaring alarm. I hesitated as I reached the ground floor: the front door was close, nearly within reach, but I would have to pass the open door to the voodoo room, where I knew Madame L’Angelle slept. I backed slowly down the hallway toward the kitchen, my eyes never leaving the door to her lair.</p><p>Sudden pain radiated from my hip and there was a honking grate of wood-on-wood, thunderous in the silent house. I clapped my hands over my mouth, remembering too late that one of them was meant to be holding the gun. I caught only inches from the ground and froze, panting shallowly. There was a shallow moan from the voodoo room, followed by some broken snores. My nerve broken, I wheeled and sprinted through the kitchen and out the back door, heedlessly allowing it to slam behind me. I permitted myself five breaths to embrace panic; bent over, my hands on my knees, panting in great whooping gasps. Then I straightened, adjusted the knife under my bra strap, palmed the phone in my bra, and carried on.</p><p>The grass was chilly and wet against my bare feet, sending goosebumps radiating up my calves. There were no lights in the slave quarters, but the moon was bright enough to spot occasional movement, and Jody’s low voice carried back to me across the spongy lawn, though I couldn’t make out his words.</p><p>I recognized the purr of engines just before the headlights flashed across the yard. I sprinted for a low clump of brush and threw myself into it through tiny, snagging thorns, pressing flat against the ground. The front of my dress soaked through in seconds, and I shivered as I watched one car after another pull up and park close to the little cabins that made up the slave quarters. The people who got out were rowdy, jittery and loud with excitement and reeking of a chemical smell like permanent markers. The cabins all looked identical to me, but the spectators seemed to pick one out from the others, the second from the right. They filed inside and there was a loud, creaking thump. Slowly, their excited murmurs descended to silence. I waited until the quiet stretched out for ten, twenty, thirty breaths, and then I crept from my cover, the thorns tugging at my dress and tearing my skin, wincing as a sharp rock bit deeply into my knee.</p><p>I crept closer to the cabin, my head tilted to listen intently. I was nearly to the door when a raucous cheer went up, sending my heart leaping into my throat. I stumbled back from the door and around the corner of the building and waited to be caught, but there was no movement. I slid slowly back around the front of the cabin, balanced on my toes, not daring to lift my feet for fear of noise. I opened the door slowly, and then I could hear. Jesse’s voice rolled up from the darkness. “<em>…merciless monsters fight as if their very lives depend on it!”</em></p><p>I inched closer to the wide, dark trap door in the middle of the floor. My muscles quivered and twitched as I inched closer. My limbs were numb and humped in gooseflesh. “<em>…A pedophile science teacher!...” </em>The only way to keep moving forward was to remember that Cass was down there, alone. There were words crudely carved into the wood above the stairs. <em>Welcome to the Tombs, asshole!</em> I hesitated at the top of the steps. I willed my body to move, but my trembling legs would not obey. “<em>…back-stabbin’, piece o’ shit vampire!</em>”</p><p>At that the spectators grew rabid, the jeers and boos deafening even from a distance. <em>Kill the blood-sucker! You deserve to die! Kill them! </em>There was a stuttering cough and then a roar as a chainsaw came to life. Tears sprang to my eyes, but I still couldn’t make my legs move. The chanting reached fever pitch. I had to move. I couldn’t move. <em>I had to move. </em></p><p>Desperate, I bunched my legs beneath me, and I jumped.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you, as always, for reading! I'm really grateful any time I see a new hit, kudos, or comment, I appreciate them all!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0040"><h2>40. The Tombs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper frees Cassidy from the Tombs.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I was airborne, my arms windmilling, one hand brushing the damp, mildewy rock wall and the other clinging to my pistol. The toes of one foot brushed a step, the toes of the other foot caught my weight a little more solidly, and then I was at the bottom, my momentum carrying me crashing into a chalkboard propped up on a stool and then into the wall. Miraculously, I kept my feet and my hold on the gun. The jeering quieted, and then silenced, but the buzz of the chainsaw carried on. I spun from the wall, panting, raising my gun. “<em>Stop!</em>” My voice was thready and frightened, rather than full and commanding as I’d hoped. “Stop.”</p><p>Cassidy was there; face bloodied, one eye blackened, but standing.</p><p>Alive.</p><p>I went weak with relief and the barrel of the gun dipped for a moment before I remembered to raise it again. His eyes were wide, stunned as he took me in. Once I’d seen him I felt able to take in the rest of the room—a huge cement chamber, with rows of cement risers that the audience stood on and a wide clear space for the hostages to fight. Jesse stood in the center of it now, wearing a beat-up old top hat. He stared at me hard, his mouth twisted into a grimace. TC and Jody glared at me from a dim tunnel that stretched away into the dark on the other side of the ring.</p><p>“What are you doin’ down here, girl?” Jesse’s voice was soft, but it carried clear throughout the Tombs, even over the chainsaw. All eyes were on me now. I swallowed convulsively, unsure if I could trust my voice.</p><p>“You let him go.” My voice was a squeaky whisper, and the spectators nearest to me laughed. I tried again, managing a shout this time. “Let him go!”</p><p>Jesse swaggered toward me, a slow, cocky smile crossing his face. “Or what?”</p><p>I drew back the hammer of the pistol; it made a satisfying click as it bounced back into place. “I’ll kill you, Jesse L’Angelle. I swear to God.” I searched his face for any sign that the Jesse I knew was here, in this place, under the cruel mask he wore now.</p><p>He kept coming, stalking toward me until the trembling barrel rested against his chest, and then leaning over it until his nose was only inches from mine. “<em>God ain’t here</em>,” he drawled.</p><p>I squeezed my eyes shut and pulled the trigger. There was a dry click—nothing more. I pulled it again, and a third time. <em>The </em>fucking<em> safety! </em>I thought as Jesse tore the gun from my hands. He held it by the barrel and brought the grip crashing across my cheek; I felt the skin there split as stars exploded across my vision and I stumbled sideways into one of the cement risers. “Get outta here, you dumb bitch.” His voice was cold, wholly unfamiliar. A low laugh rippled through the onlookers.  </p><p>I clawed the knife from under my bra strap and flipped it open, dropping into a low crouch with my side to him and elbows down, as Tulip had taught me. He wore the same coolly amused expression that he had in the church the day I attacked him, and the memory filled me with rage and hurt. I lunged for him with the knife held straight out like a fencer. He sidestepped lazily and his palm struck me hard between the shoulder blades as my momentum carried me by. I overbalanced and went stumbling, my arms flailing, into the nearest spectator, a squat woman with greying, greasy hair who smelled like cigarettes. The knife clattered to the ground. She caught me and shoved me roughly back toward Jesse, laughing.</p><p>I spun to face him, palming blood and tears from my cheek, and raised my fists. “Let him go.” My voice was a hollow whisper. “Jesse. Jesse <em>please</em>.” He eyed me speculatively for a moment, then brushed past me to the center of the fighting ring.</p><p>“This girl! This…<em>vampire fucker</em>,” he paused here, and jeers rose and crested like a wave: <em>Bitch! Slut! Whore! Cunt!</em> He waited for them to die down before he continued. “She thinks we should let the blood-sucker go. She <em>thinks! </em>We should let him outta here in one piece, to go on his merry way! I leave it to you, my brothers…” He spread his arms wide, turning in a slow circle to appeal to every twisted face. “<em>What say you!</em>”</p><p>The reply was deafening; the audience roared their denial, feet stomping, fists shaking, the very walls seemed to tremble.</p><p>Jesse completed his slow circle to face me again, a crooked smirk on his face. “No,” he repeated quietly.</p><p>I plunged toward him, but a pair of massive hands closed around my wrists, dragging me away. My feet scrabbled against the floor and I screamed wordlessly as Jody hauled me across the ring to the first row of risers. I caught Cassidy’s eye as we went, and the sadness there made me ache inside.</p><p>Jody held me fast as Jesse once again introduced the fighters, once again teasing the crowd into a frenzy. He grabbed my jaw in one huge hand, his fingers digging into the split along my cheek, and wrenched my face toward the ring. “You gonna watch,” he breathed in my ear. “You gonna watch him fight again, and again, and again. And when he can’t fight any mo’ we gonna drag him out in the sun and you gonna watch him <em>burn</em>.”</p><p>My mind raced as Cassidy clashed against his opponent, his spiked mace blocking the man’s chainsaw, a desperate snarl twisting his mouth. Someone tossed a machete into the ring and the man grabbed it, wielding it in one hand and the saw in the other. He swung them both in a high arc toward Cass, who raised the handle of the mace to block the strike. The saw bit through the mace’s grip and it fell in two pieces in Cassidy’s hands; he rolled to escape the blade of the chainsaw and it just missed him, carving a shallow groove in the cement floor. He popped to his feet, unarmed now, and dodged as his opponent lunged. The crowd shoved him roughly back to center. The chainsaw came down across his leg and I screamed, but he seemed unhurt. He scrambled along the ground, his back to his enemy, and the man ran at his back, machete raised. Cassidy caught the handle at the last moment, his elbows locked, the strain clear on his face. He groped with one hand, reaching, stretching, and his fingers found the remains of his mace. He brought it arcing up into his rival’s temple. The man wavered for a moment and fell. Cassidy crawled over him, shaking him, apologizing, trying to revive him.</p><p>This, beyond everything else, pushed me to anguish. I searched for something, anything, some way to get him out…Jesse raised Cassidy’s arm, declaring him the champion, then flung him roughly to the ground where he lay panting. The crowd began to disperse, and desperation gnawed at me.</p><p>“A trade,” I blurted. “Me for him. A trade.”</p><p>Jody laughed scornfully. “Can’t shoot, can’t fight, no tits, barely worth lookin’ at. Why in the hell would I do that?”</p><p>I wet my lips and swallowed before I replied, knowing full well I was dooming myself. “Because you remember the crowds that a werewolf brings to the tombs.”</p><p>The hand on my jaw twisted my head around, straining my neck cruelly, and Jody peered into my eyes—my Mama’s eyes. A slow smile crossed his face. “I <em>fuckin’</em> knew it,” he hissed.</p><p>He raised one tree-trunk arm, and the crowd stopped. They grumbled, but Jody was the ultimate authority here, and he had their attention. Cassidy peered over at us, his face a mask of confusion and dread. I twitched the corner of my mouth in an approximation of a smile.</p><p>Jody stood and dragged me to the center of the ring. “There been a new development!” He wasn’t the showman Jesse was, but his voice rolled across the audience, keeping them rapt. “This <em>bitch</em>,” he smirked at his cleverness, “wants to take the blood-sucker’s place in the tombs!”</p><p>There was a rash of impatient booing and baleful glares—I’d interrupted their fun once already, and they were growing tired of me. Jody let me go and stepped back, giving me a small nod and a predatory smile. A flash of understanding took me: If I wanted Cassidy out of there, I had to convince the crowd. I swallowed hard and wiped my sweating palms against my dress.</p><p>I spun in a circle, taking in the hostile glares of the onlookers. Cassidy’s wide eyes were pinned to me, and he was shaking his head ever so slightly. I turned away. “You’re here—” My voice was a squeak, and snickers rolled through the audience. “You’re here to see monsters, right?” Better. There were scattered cheers. I scrambled for words, a way to keep their attention. “Does this—” I gestured at Cassidy, but my hand jittered and jumped so I lowered it again. “—look like a monster?” There were bemused mutterings. “He just looks like a man to me.” I stepped closer and stooped to touch a bleeding split in his eyebrow, avoiding his eyes. I held my trembling hand up to the crowd. “Bleeds like a man!”</p><p>“Juniper, <em>don’t</em>.” His lips scarcely moved, his voice audible only to me. I spun away from him and back to the center of the room.</p><p>“Do you wanna pay to see the same fuckin’ human-looking guy beat up night after night? ‘Cause to me that sounds pretty fucking boring!” I’d somehow found a role, a bit of showmanship, my voice was barely shaking. “Or do you want to see some real nightmares?!” I tugged at the wolf, just a little, not allowing it to fully wash over me. Eyes around the room widened as a shaggy coat of fur rippled down my body. My face lengthened into a snout full of jagged, oversized teeth. My fingers shortened and grew clumsy while my nails lengthened and darkened into claws. The bones of my feet lengthened and I shot up half a foot in a second. I began to pitch forward as my center of gravity changed, and caught myself against the nearest riser. Slowly I stood again, baring my teeth around at the crowd, and howled at the ceiling—an awful half-human scream that reverberated around the chamber long after I’d gone silent.</p><p>“Rouga<em>rou</em>! Rouga<em>rou</em>!” The chanting began with TC and swept through the room, each voice building on the next until the thunder of it surrounded me and swept me away. “ROUGA<em>ROU! </em>ROUGA<em>ROU</em>!” Only Cassidy and Jesse were still. Cassidy still lay sprawled on the floor, his face turned away from me. Jesse stood against a wall, his arms crossed, glaring at me angrily. I lifted my lip—the temptation to find out if we were now more evenly matched was strong. As I eyed him he pushed off the wall and swaggered to join me in the center of the ring. He gestured for quiet, and the chanting slowly ebbed away.</p><p>“Next fight’s in one hour! Tell your friends!” The crowd cheered and began once again to disperse, most of them already with their phones out to let the world know that the Tombs were back in business. I waited until the last of them had left to shift back, and as my claws dulled into fingernails and my teeth shortened and flattened the fear came rushing in. I collapsed in a heap next to Cassidy, who groped for my hand without opening his eyes.</p><p>“Why’d yeh <em>do</em> that?” My teeth were chattering too hard to speak, so I swept my thumb over his battered knuckles gently. I realized with a shock that tears were rolling from under his eyelids to mix with the sweat and blood that were smeared across his face.</p><p>A huge booted foot smashed into Cassidy’s ribs, sending him rolling toward the bottom of the stairs, groaning. “Get the fuck outta here, leech. ‘Fore I change my mind.” TC gave that low, hooting laugh again as Cass painfully rose to his hands and knees.</p><p>“I-I-I—” My teeth still chattered and I clenched my jaw, taking a deep breath before I tried again. “I s-see him get on a b-b-bus, or there’s no deal.”</p><p>Jody glared down at me, and I did my best to return it as every muscle in my body quaked. “And what in the hell makes you think you’re in any position to make demands, huh?” He raised a hand and I flinched away; he laughed.</p><p>“B-because your p-people are gonna be real d-d-disa—upset if they bring all their friends and I just lie down and get b-beaten to death.” I raised my chin stubbornly, forcing myself to maintain eye contact.</p><p>“Ah, give the bitch what she wants, Jody,” Jesse drawled. “After she’s dead we can just go find him and bring him back.” Jody considered this for a while, his eyes flicking from me, to Cassidy, to Jesse. Finally he nodded, and I was able to breathe again.</p><p>TC grabbed a fistful of Cassidy’s hair, dragging him back to the center of the tombs. Jesse retrieved my gun from where it had fallen to the floor and held it against my temple as TC clipped a heavy, rusted collar attached to a thick chain around my neck. He used the chain to bind my hands, shortening the length between the collar and my wrists until my fists pressed tight against my chest. When he was satisfied that my arms were restrained he toed off his boot, peeled off his sock, balled it up, and stuffed it into my mouth, a crude gag. The warm, sour dampness of it made me wretch, and that he laughed that hooting, breathy snicker again.</p><p>They brought out another heavy collar for Cassidy and bound his hands at his waist. His gag went back in his mouth, tied tightly behind his head. They prodded us toward the stairs, the barrel of the gun pressed into the small of my back.</p><p>“If he try anything, shoot her,” Jody ordered quietly.</p><p>“I <em>know</em>,” Jesse snapped. “I ain’t dumb.”</p><p>Jody scoffed. “Dumb enough you ain’t knowed your best pals are monsters.”</p><p>Jesse went stormy quiet at that and they marched us across the cold, wet grass in silence. We loaded into Jody’s truck—Cass and I in the back, jammed into the bucket seats, Jody behind the wheel, and TC and Jesse packed in beside him. TC pulled a sawn off shotgun from beneath the seat and held it on me, twisted around in the seat. I was reminded grotesquely of the drive to Dennis’ apartment with my brothers, in what felt like another life. We all lurched in our seats as the huge truck rumbled forward.</p><p>My brothers. My eyes stung and I blinked rapidly, raising my gaze to the ceiling. I hoped they would never find out what had happened to me, that they’d believe I’d just forgotten them as I baked on a sunny beach in Bimini. But then…werewolves had put a stop to our imprisonment in the tombs once. They could do it again. Right? My phone felt suddenly warm against my chest. I turned to glance at Cassidy, nudging his thigh lightly with my knee. His eyes were closed, his expression far away, but they opened at my gentle, insistent pressure. He raised one eyebrow, staring at me quizzically. I looked from him, to TC, and back, then did it again for good measure.</p><p>He seemed to catch on immediately and began mumbling animatedly through his gag, his eyes dancing and bound hands gesticulating just as if he were chatting at a pub. Jody glared at him in the mirror.</p><p>“Shut him up, TC,” he ordered.</p><p>TC looked conflicted, his subservience to Jody at war with his curiosity about what Cassidy was saying. Finally, flinchingly, he reached back and yanked the gag from Cassidy’s mouth. Cass stretched his jaw luxuriously before continuing to speak.</p><p>“I was jus’ askin’ if yer circumcised, tha’s all,” he explained. I thought I heard Jesse scoff.</p><p>TC blinked, taken fully by surprise. “Uh…yeah, yeah sho I am…” he replied, bewildered.</p><p>“D’you ever wonder where yer foreskin ended up? They ship ‘em all over th’ word, yeh know. In temperature-controlled semi-trucks.” TC was fully engaged now. I began twisting my wrists in their chains, stretching for the cup of my bra.</p><p>“N…no, cain’t say’s I have…” TC said slowly. My phone had slid under my breast in the cup and I tried to keep my face smooth as I strained against my bonds, trying to reach it.</p><p>“Oh? I don’ think I’d ever stop wonderin’,” Cassidy went on. “They use ‘em in damn near everythin’, you know?” My fingertip brushed smooth plastic and I clenched my teeth against the gag, restraining a groan as it slid further away.</p><p>“…They do?” TC was thoroughly fascinated now, his eyes glued to Cassidy’s earnest, bruised face, and I twisted my shoulder inward to grant myself better access.</p><p>“Oh, yeah! Everythin’, man! Ice cream, face cream, coffee cream, eczema cream…prett’ well any type o’ cream, really.” My index finger and my thumb pincered together on the phone, and I squeezed tight as I began the slow process of pulling it out from under my breast. “An’ baby food, man! Baby food, c’n yeh believe that? They say iss no matter because th’ babies never know, but that, man, that’s bloody cannibalism!”</p><p>Jody twisted in his seat to backhand Cassidy savagely; his head cracked sickeningly against the window. “I said <em>shut up</em>,” he snarled. TC shoved the gag back into Cassidy’s mouth, looking apologetic.</p><p>The phone rested between my palms, hidden between my hands. I bumped Cassidy gently with my elbow and he turned to me again, his eyes dazed, blood trickling from beneath his hair. I tapped the tips of my index fingers together, drawing his attention there, and he twisted to rest his bound hands on my thigh in a gesture of comfort and familiarity. I eased my hands over until they were directly above his, careful not to look at him again, and opened my palms. The phone fell in slow motion toward his waiting grasp.</p><p>And TC deftly snagged it out of the air. He laughed, waving it at us and <em>tsk</em>ing. “Now, we have a deal. Don’ be tryin’a wiggle out of it, now.” He reached across Jesse to crank down the window and sent the phone sailing out into the darkness. I deflated, and Cassidy’s eyes drooped closed again, defeated. I pressed close against his side, drinking in the feel of his body against mine, memorizing the smell of him—cigarettes and sweat and copper. He twisted to rest his chin on top of my head and I closed my eyes, trying to block out the bruising pressure of the chains and pretend we were anywhere else.</p><p>The truck lurched to a stop and the comforting warmth of Cassidy’s body was torn away; I fell sideways across the seat. We’d stopped in sight of the bus stop, though it was just a single streetlight with a heavily graffitied sign hanging from it. A bus idled there, ‘New Orleans’ written across the display in bright yellow lights.</p><p>“Keep your gun on her,” Jody instructed, though the barrels had been pointed at my face the whole way. TC pulled the hammer back, the double-click very audible over the truck’s engine and the clinking of Cassidy’s chains. Jody yanked the bonds from Cassidy’s wrists and removed the collar; the disgust at being so close to a vampire was written across his face. He left the gag, and gave Cass a rough shove toward the bus that sent him sprawling. He was up again just as fast, tearing the gag from his mouth. He peered into the cab of the truck, his reluctance to leave me written plain across his face.</p><p>I smiled around my gag, giving him a little nod. <em>It’s alright,</em> I wanted to say. <em>Go and be safe.</em> He shifted toward me and the cold muzzle of TC’s shotgun pressed against my temple. He stopped again.</p><p>Jody took a step toward him that brought his chest flush with Cassidy’s shoulder. “Don’t wanna miss yo’ bus,” he growled. When Cass didn’t move, Jody shoved him again. Cass was ready this time and kept his feet. He let his momentum carry him a few steps and then continued trudging toward the bus.</p><p>Jody climbed back in the car, slamming the door, and made a wide u-turn in the road. I craned my neck to catch one last glimpse of Cassidy as he approached the bus. He didn’t look back.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>We've made it to chapter 40! I'm so grateful to everyone who's taken the time to read, I hope you've been enjoying reading it as much as I love writing it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0041"><h2>41. Alone in the Dark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper realizes the full implications of her choice in the Tombs.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cars lined Angelville’s driveway all the way to the road, though most of their owners must have already been in the tombs; only a few stragglers were still outside. TC dragged me from the truck and shoved me ahead of him roughly. I jerked away and glared as haughtily as I could with my hands still bound and spit wetting my chin.</p><p>“Let the bitch walk if she’ll walk, TC. Save the effort,” Jesse drawled. I turned away from them and made myself move, though my legs threatened to collapse under me with each step. The low roar of the crowd was audible before we reached the slave quarters. I was able to make it to the steps that led down into the Tombs under my own power, but again I balked at the top of the stairs.</p><p>“Move,” Jody said, prodding me in the back. The audience was growing raucous, impatient. My feet were cemented to the earthen floor of the cabin.</p><p>Jesse brushed past me, pausing to look down at me coldly. “You chose this,” he said simply, and disappeared down the stairs. The crowd silenced as he descended. “<em>Welcome, you motherless goat-humpers!</em>” The crowd howled, whooped, screamed, stomped. The noise was enormous. He waited for it to die down before he continued. “<em>Now, you mighta heard, we got somethin’ special for the Tombs grand reopenin’…</em>” The cheering swelled again, and I could hear the chant of <em>rougarou! rougarou! </em>under the wordless calls. “<em>Help me give her a welcome, brothers and sisters!</em>”</p><p>The chanting took over, thunderous. <em>ROUGAROU! ROUGAROU! ROUGAROU! </em>Jody and TC each grabbed an elbow and my toes brushed the steps as they carried me down into the tombs. Jeering faces crowded the base of the stairs, pressing in all around me as we reached the floor until I was surrounded on all sides by masks of hatred and grabbing hands. I sobbed through my gag and ducked my head against the onslaught, tears streaming down my face. Nails scratched me, clawing my skin, yanking my hair. I shrieked and leapt forward as a savage pinch bruised the back of my thigh. A large, bodiless hand with dirt under the nails and ground into the knuckles groped my breast roughly. One strap of my dress was torn from my shoulder and a long rip opened down the front of it, exposing me for the crowd to see. Hot spit and cold beer rained on me from above.</p><p>Finally I was through the wall of bodies, next to Jesse in the center of the ring, my head bowed and tears speckling the cement at my feet. Still the chants continued. Jody stomped through the crowd to disappear down the dim tunnel at the other end of the chamber and TC followed, Jesse’s hand taking over his iron hold on one of my bound arms. TC returned only moments later with an armload of long, clublike metal cylinders, each with a wooden handle on one end that absurdly made them resemble rolling pins. The other end was blunt, with two short probes extending from the tip. He distributed them among the spectators closest to the front. Hot pain sizzled across my back, and I arched as my muscles spasmed, a cry torn from my lips. One of the men had danced forward to jab me with end of his club. There was a ripple of low laughter as I fell to the floor, panting.</p><p>A low chant began at the other side of the chamber and swept toward me in a wave—<em>joDY, joDY, JODY! JODY! </em>The people parted as he made his languid way back to the ring. He wore heavy leather welding apron that stretched nearly to the floor and was stained black with old blood. He’d strapped thick gator-skin gauntlets to his forearms and calves; they were pitted and scarred with marks from past fights. His fists were left exposed, and the rings of brass knuckles glinted in the low light. In each hand he wielded one of the long metal clubs—cattle prods, I realized. He swung them in lazy arcs as he came.</p><p>TC and Jesse drove me to one side of the ring, under a section of wall where they’d chalked ‘WOLF vs JODY’ and the collected bets. No one had bet on me. Jesse removed my chains and yanked the saturated gag from my mouth. I flexed my hands as sensation returned. He and TC each grabbed a strap of my much-abused sunflower dress and in one smooth motion, tore it from my body in two pieces. The crowd howled, jeered, whistled. I rushed to cover myself, the tears coming hot and fast.</p><p>Jesse returned to the center of the ring, tipping his worn top hat to the crowd. He waited there, still, until they quieted. “Brothers…sisters…welcome back to <em>the Tombs</em>!” He spread his arms wide, palms upturned, and raised his face to the ceiling, turning in a slow circle to drink in the wave of cheers. “In this corner, we have the reignin’ champ, the long-time favorite, the king of the Tombs! <em>Jody!</em>” He gestured grandly toward Jody, who smiled menacingly across the ring at me. The crowd took up the chant again, shouting his name as he swung one of the cattle prods in a full circle. He thrust it into one of the nearest spectators suddenly, quick as a snake, and the crowd laughed as the unlucky audience member dropped, spasming.</p><p>Jesse waited for the crowd to quiet again before he pointed at me. “And in this corner…a newcomer to the Tombs…” His voice was soft, and the audience craned their necks to peer at me, leering. “The <em>mangy</em>,” his voice rose with the grumbles in the crowd, “<em>shit sniffin’,</em> <em>flea bitten, VAMPIRE FUCKIN’ </em>abomination…<em>Juniper Cassidy!</em>” Trash rained down on me as the crowd booed and jeered. New pain bloomed against my sternum and beer from the mostly-full can that had struck me splashed down my chest.</p><p>Jesse raised his hands for quiet. “Brothers, sisters…” The audience waited with bated breath, seeming to lean forward on their toes as one body in anticipation. “<em>Let’s fight</em>.”</p><p>For the second time that evening a thick coat of fur rippled from my crown downward. The floor pulled away from me as my trunk, legs, and arms lengthened, and I stumbled against the wall with the sudden shift in my center of gravity. My nails thickened and sharpened, scraping against the concrete. I felt my ears shift and lengthen and suddenly the cheering of the crowd doubled, an inescapable roaring in my head. My face and jaw lengthened to accommodate my growing teeth, and as my nose reshaped into a snout I was assaulted by a barrage of scents—dank mildew, cheap bitter beer, and the sour stink of sweat laced with adrenaline, the most pervasive of all.</p><p>I was out of time. With a thunderous yell Jody was on me, rushing across the ring with the thick metal cylinder of the cattle prod raised over his head like a club. I caught it in one of my short-fingered, sharp-clawed hands. My lips peeled back from my teeth in a grotesque smile as I realized that in this body, Jody and I were eye-to-eye.</p><p>A jolt of pain seared my stomach and I doubled over as Jody pulled the other prod away, the muscles of my stomach spasming and twitching. He brought the length of one of his weapons crashing down across my shoulders and I fell hard, my knees and elbows bitten by the sharp grit of the cement floor; the crowd roared approvingly as I panted on the ground. I closed my eyes, hoping that the blow that would finish me would come quickly, but seconds passed and it didn’t come at all. The crowd began to jeer, demanding action.</p><p>I raised my head. Jody had backed to the center of the ring and was watching me with a sly smile on his face. Of course. He’d want to drag it out. I climbed to my feet, unsteady with pain and in this unfamiliar body. The cheering made way to boos and jeers and an empty bottle shattered against the wall next to my head. I snarled and lunged for Jody, my jaws open wide, my clawed hands reaching.</p><p>I was faster than he anticipated. There was an echoing clang as he tossed one of his cattle prods away, he held the other one out in front of him with one hand on the grip and one near the shocking end. He raised it as my wide-open jaws plunged toward his face, and my teeth closed on cold unyielding metal. My momentum carried us crashing across the floor to the opposite wall. Jody’s back was against the hard stone, his gauntleted arms thrust forward to keep my slavering jaws away from his neck. I flailed against him and he raised his elbows to block my blows, my claws glancing harmlessly off the thick gator-skin leather. I pushed my head forward against the metal in my mouth and slashed desperately—this time my strike landed and I laid him open from his scalp to his chin; the lower half of his ear dangled grotesquely, attached to his head by only a thin ribbon of skin.</p><p>Jody braced against the wall and gave a great shove; I overbalanced and stumbled backward to sprawl in the crowd. They were on me immediately, kicking and spitting, the ones TC had armed shocking me about the head and shoulders. I rolled to my hands and knees and crawled back toward the ring, cringing against the blows that rained over my back and legs, driving me forward. The bruising strikes ceased as I crossed some invisible line back into the ring and I stopped, my breath coming in great swooping gasps, my body trembling all over.</p><p>“Get up,” Jesse commanded. The spectators jeered. I couldn’t make myself obey—my body and my will too battered. “<em>Get up</em>,” he repeated. “There’s still time to track down your blood-sucker’s bus.”</p><p>I got up, clawing my way up the wall to stand, panting, on legs that trembled beneath me. Jody grinned widely, swinging his cattle prod in a low figure-8 before he attacked. He came at me straight on, the prod held out in front of him like a jousting knight. I raised my hand to block his advance, realizing my mistake just as the two probes brushed my palm. Pain lanced up my arm, my fist spasming closed over the probes, the muscles of my forearm bunched tight, aching with the strength of the contraction. The pain sent me to my knees, my eyes squeezed shut against it, the current twisting the muscles of my face into a monstrous snarl.</p><p>Jody laughed and kicked the prod from my hand. The spectators cheered. My arm swung uselessly at my side, numb, unresponsive. He stepped closer and brought one massive fist down across my face; new blood flowed from the split Jesse had left in my cheek. I tumbled over onto my back, and the audience howled and stomped. Jody fell to his knees on top of me, his massive weight crushing the air from my lungs. I lifted my good arm to protect my face, and he wrenched it back down to the ground, pinning it under one knee. He hit me again, the brass knuckles tearing my skin. Blood filled my mouth, choking me; I coughed and wheezed and a fine spray of red misted the air. The cheers reached a fever pitch, they were chanting his name over and over. He wrapped one hand over the other, combining his fists into a massive club. He raised it high. The crowd screamed their approval.</p><p>Darkness.</p><p>~~~~~</p><p><em>Drip</em>. The sound of falling water drew me toward consciousness. I couldn’t remember why, but I knew I did not want to be conscious. I tried to pull myself back down into oblivion, and senselessness blanketed me obligingly. I sank gratefully into darkness, silence, numbness.</p><p><em>Drip</em>. It was inconsiderate—rude, even—for the water to insist on disrupting my endless fall into insensibility. My brows furrowed, and that small motion sent dull, aching pain radiating across my face. Once my bruised and swollen cheeks had made their complaints known, the rest of my hurts all seemed to come awake at once, clamoring and competing for my attention. My back from the nape of my neck to my ankles felt like one deep bruise. The crown of my head ached but when I raised a hand to examine it, I found my wrists were tightly chained again. I slowly, painfully lifted my hands to my head and prodded at a tender lump the diameter of a baseball. My skin itched and burned where I’d been shocked by the cattle prods.</p><p><em>Drip. </em>I opened my eyes—or tried to. Only one cooperated. The other would only open to a tiny, useless slit. My face felt hot, and huge. I felt my head must be swollen to the size of a beach ball. I raised my bound hands to touch my cheeks cautiously; they were puffy, and feverish. One the side of my cooperative eye there was a long, knotted scab along my cheekbone where Jesse had hit me with the pistol grip. There was a wound along my other cheek as well, more swollen, warmer to the touch, with crude bristly stitches poking up away from the skin. Jody’s brass knuckles.</p><p>With my damage assessment complete, I rolled my good eye to examine my surroundings. I was in a square stone room, just barely wide enough for me to stretch lengthwise across it. The only illumination bled in through a window set high in the door; metal bars across the opening broke the weak light into three rectangles against the opposite wall. The foundation was damp and cracked in one corner of the ceiling—the source of the dripping that had disturbed me. A white five-gallon bucket stood in one corner, unmistakably meant for use as a commode. A styrofoam bowl of cold, congealed grits sat on the floor next to me. There was a metal plate set in the wall opposite the door with a ring protruding from it. A thick chain dangled from the ring—I followed it as far as I could with my eyes, and then raised my hand to my throat, confirming my guess that the heavy metal collar was back. I rattled the chain that hung from my collar, and the one attached to the wall gave an answering chorus of clinks. Stuck. I tried to focus on breathing deeply and evenly. Losing my head to panic would be worse than useless.</p><p>I was naked other than the metal collar that flaked bits of rust onto my shoulders and chest and the chains that had cut off most sensation to my hands. The damp air and stone floor had leached the warmth from my body as I lay unconscious, and now I shivered violently, though my battered muscles screamed in protest. Slowly, painstakingly, I pulled first one leg and then the other to my chest, whimpering as the motion stretched the blue-beaten flesh of my back. I ducked my head to breathe into the crevice between my thighs and my chest, trying to warm myself with my breath. This small measure of comfort achieved, I closed my eyes and wished for oblivion to return.</p><p>It didn’t.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>A key rattling in the lock roused me from a thick stupor. I turned my head to the door sluggishly, peering dolefully through my one good eye. The door opened slowly, the creak of the rusted hinges deafening after hours of near silence. Jesse stood in the doorway, his face smooth and expressionless. He held a shapeless bundle in one hand—he thrust it toward me and I flinched, the sudden movement bringing the pain roaring back to full strength through my body.</p><p>“Got you a blanket,” he said, his eyes sliding sideways to peer down the hall. I turned my face away. There was a rustle and snap of fabric and the blanket settled over me, rank with the smell of mildew. I wanted to reject it, but I couldn’t force myself to shrug away the meager protection from the cold. I heard him step closer and close the door behind him, and I shrank in on myself, wishing I could disappear.</p><p>“<em>I had a plan!</em>” His harsh whisper was close enough to my ear that I felt his breath and I startled away from him, scrambling to the wall. I pressed my back against it, moaning softly as the pain of the sudden movement rolled over me. “I wasn’t gonna leave him down here. I tried to tell you to go!” I searched his face for a moment; he seemed sincere, his face soft, eyes pleading for absolution. I struggled to tie this Jesse, the Jesse I’d first known, to the monster from the night before. But what did it matter now? I was here. I turned away. The silence stretched out between us, until finally he scoffed and turned away.</p><p>Icy panic twisted in my gut as he was silhouetted in the doorframe, black and featureless against the lights in the tunnel, a still frame plucked from my nightmare. “<em>Wait—</em>” I started, but my voice was a choked whisper that came too late. He closed the door, leaving me alone in the cold and the dark.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>Time passed. I wasn’t sure if I slept or if I was just swallowed in the darkness, mesmerized to near insensibility by the low buzz of the tunnel lights. I wondered how long this would be my life, how long I could last against Jody’s punishing fists. Weeks? Months? Surely not years. The thought of years in this darkness, loosed from my chains only to be beaten and jeered at, drew a dry sob from my throat. I wondered what would happen if I simply laid down and refused to get up and fight. Would they end me quickly? Or would they threaten even worse tortures, until I submitted to them and fought? When I died, would that be the end? Or had I reawakened the lust for werewolf blood, begun the kidnappings again, condemned family and friends to share this fate?</p><p>I wondered where Cassidy was, what he was doing. I hoped fervently that he was safe and taking care of himself, though I knew him well enough to doubt it. I could see him now in my mind’s eye, swinging open the door to my cell and leaning against the doorframe, umbrella hooked over one wrist, beaming his beautiful crooked smile down at me. He’d be wearing pants that were both too tight and too short—more than likely a stolen pair of mine—that exposed mismatching, vibrant socks. A ridiculous pastel graphic t-shirt, probably with rhinestones or sequins or a combination of both, his aviator glasses hanging from it's collar…the image made me smile tearfully.</p><p>“I said it’s time to go, Missus Cassidy.” I blinked hard and came back to myself. TC stood looming in the doorway. In one hand he held one of the clublike cattle prods, and I cringed away from it instinctively. In the other he held a long baton. A syringe at the end of the pole glinted weakly in the watery light. “Crowd’s waitin’.”</p><p>As he spoke I realized I could hear the dull roar of the crowd, and had been hearing them for a while. The buzz of voices had built so slowly that in my haze I hadn’t noticed them. Now that I was paying attention, the cacophony was unmistakable, their excitement nearly palpable. I turned away from TC.</p><p>He stepped closer, and I curled in on myself. “Aw, don’ be like that. Deal’s a deal, Missus Cassidy. Come on, now.” He raised the baton, the syringe hovered closer and I cringed away from it.</p><p>“What is that?!” My voice was hoarse, my jaw ached with the movement of speech.</p><p>“This, uhh, this methamphetamine, and a li’l epinephrine. Give you a li’l boost for tonight, help wit’ the pain.” He jabbed the pole at me again, and I swatted at it with numb hands.</p><p>He’d been feinting. There was a sharp sting as the needle was embedded in my thigh, and a twinging ache as the contents of the syringe emptied into my muscle.</p><p>My heart stuttered to a sprint and a current of electric energy rippled under my skin. I bolted to my feet and began to rock from foot to foot, unable to stand still. The pains that had crippled me were muted, far away, someone else’s problem. The small room brightened as though illuminated on a stage and I could have counted each strand of TC’s thinning hair as he leaned to unchain me from the wall. The buzz of voices in the main chamber became clear, and my focus flitted from one string of conversation to another like a hummingbird among flowers.</p><p>TC was chuckling as he tugged my chain, prompting me forward down the hall. I didn’t need much coercing; I could hear Jesse egging on the crowd and rushed forward, ready to fight him, Jody, any of them, all of them. The chain brought me up short and I twisted to glare at TC, chafed by the delay. He was unbothered, continuing at his slow pace. “There she is! You gonna give 'em a <em>good</em> show tonight.”</p><p>The Tombs were impossibly crowded, bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder and back to front, with minor fights for the privilege of standing on a riser breaking out constantly. I could hear Jesse’s booming showman voice but all I could see of him was the very top of his hat. I <em>could</em> see Jody, standing a head above the rest of the crowd. TC began to nudge our way to the center of the Tombs, but I bulled past him, shouldering people out of the way, my lips drawn back from my teeth. My body surged with power and strength. Jody was insignificant. A nothing. A worm. I would <em>destroy him</em>.</p><p>Jesse caught the chain of my collar as I reached the clear ten-by-ten square in the middle of the room and I turned to snap at him, forgetting that my teeth were still human, dull and useless. He laughed, and I turned my attention back to Jody, looking huge in his gator-skin gauntlets and heavy apron. Tonight a length of chain the width of a garden hose dangled from his fist, a huge padlock swinging pendulously at its end.</p><p>“She’s a spitfire tonight, folks!” Jesse was unwinding my bonds from my wrists, and I rolled my shoulders impatiently. “Welcome back to the ring, for round two with the undisputed champion, the <em>she-wolf!</em>” The wave of noise made me rock on my feet, cheers and boos in equal measure. I checked the wall—tonight, people had bet on me.</p><p>Jody smirked down at me, and I returned it eagerly. The deep scratches on his face were angry red and puffy; I couldn’t wait to do worse. My chains fell away and I <em>yanked</em> at the wolf, its massive, muscular body bursting forth from my battered human frame. There was a sharp tug and a flare of pain as the stitches in my cheek tore free and fresh blood began to flow. I shook my head impatiently, spattering the nearest spectators with blood, and they laughed and cheered.</p><p>Jody and I began to circle slowly. The energy pulsing under my skin made patience difficult, but I forced myself to wait and watch. Jody swung his chainlock in slow circles; the crowd cringed back from him in fear of the solid metal padlock.</p><p>For just a moment his eyes slid away from me, toward the entrance to the Tombs, and I lunged. I propelled myself through the air, across the ring, slavering for his blood. There was a hollow, concussive thump and I was arcing sideways, my ribs aching fiercely. I would have bowled over a section of the first row if the crush of bodies wasn’t been so dense. They shoved me away from them, back into the ring.</p><p>We went back to circling, my supreme confidence knocked down just a little, my ribs flaring with pain at each breath. I flicked one ear toward the stairs as a straggler arrived, but my eyes were glued to Jody. I turned to face him, feinting one way and then the other. He peered over my head again, his brow furrowing, and I darted in low to yank him off his feet. He brought one heavy fist crashing down on my head, flattening me to the floor. I clung to my senses, slowly clawing my way back from the veil of grey that tried to overtake me. He straightened, his eyes on the steps.</p><p>“What in the <em>hell</em> you doin’ here?” His voice was incredulous. My claws scrabbled the floor for purchase as I tried to rise. The crowd quieted, following his gaze.</p><p>“It’s the <em>leech!</em>” someone shouted, and the awed exclamations swept through the crowd. A thin thread of hope tugged at my consciousness, and struggled to cut it before it could be severed.</p><p>“I heard yehs enjoy havin’ werewolves in yer little fight club, here.” My heart leapt at his familiar voice, the easy, musical tone of it. “So I brought yehs a whole whack of ‘em.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy reading this fic as much as I love writing it!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0042"><h2>42. Rescue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cassidy returns to the Tombs, with company.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Understanding flashed in Jody’s eyes at the same moment the meaning of the words struck home for me. I clambered to my feet to watch as they came, streaming around Cassidy to flood down the steps like white water around a river rock.</p><p>Ash came first, his massive paws not touching a single step as he sailed over Cassidy’s head to land splay-legged on the floor, ears flattened against his head and teeth bared. He was on the nearest spectators before they had time to scream, his muzzle flashing down tawny and coming back up red.</p><p>Daddy came after, and then Cypress—both so dark that in this bleak place they looked black, blue eyes startling against their fur, identical but for the white splashed across Daddy’s muzzle. Ash fell back to Daddy’s flank and they disappeared from sight, though I could hear them growling fiercely. The crowd crushed in on me as they backed away from the stairs; sharp pain lanced through my paw and I tugged my toes out from under an errant heel. Jody was bulling forward, against the tide, heedless of who he knocked over or trampled. When the great wall of bodies grew too thick for him to push through he began swinging his chainlock in short, quick arcs and the cries and screams of those unfortunate enough to get in his way filled the air; a chilling harmony to the snarls that still emanated from the stairs.</p><p>Clay abandoned the steps halfway down, leaping off the edge to land in the middle of the audience, sending up a new wave of panicked cries. I was buffeted from side to side, forward and back as the two factions of the crowd met: desperately scrambling away from the wolves in front and a frenzied rush for the door behind. The press of bodies was so tight that they formed a roof over me, blocking out light, blocking out air. I shouldered through the thick forest of figures, losing two steps for every one I took. In the chaos, my eyes squinted nearly shut against the cacophony, it was impossible to tell whether my feet carried me toward the door or further into the tombs. My nose bumped something, hard and unyielding, and I realized I’d come to one of the concrete risers. I scrambled up onto it, only to realize I’d put even more distance between myself and the stairs.</p><p>Rowan was descending as I got my bearings and turned to the exit, his massive fawn body blocking the light from the trap door as he descended. Cass joined Rowan as he came, a huge maul swinging in his hand. Together they rushed the crowd, Rowan’s teeth and claws flashing, Cassidy’s maul whistling as it arced through the air. I paced anxiously on the riser, desperate to get to them but fearful of losing myself again in the crowd.</p><p>Shots rang out, deafening in the closed space and I dropped my belly to the concrete, shrinking in on myself. The walls sent up bursts of sharp stone fragments where the bullets struck, and I cringed, turning my face away.</p><p>“<em>DON’T SHOOT! THE RICOCHET!</em>” Jesse’s bellowed over the panicked crowd, and the gunshots slowed. I made myself stand again, my toes curled around the edge of the riser, trying to force myself to dive back into the shifting sea of people but loathe to lose sight of my loved ones for even a moment. At Jesse’s voice Daddy’s head had turned sharply, searching. When he spotted Jesse his snarl deepened and he plunged into the mass of bodies after him, his thickly muscled shoulders and sharp teeth clearing his way and easing his progress. Rowan and Cassidy took Daddy’s place between Ash and Cypress and they continued their slow path toward me, gaining ground as people slipped around them and went tripping and clawing up the stairs.</p><p>Jody reached them then, and his chainlock screamed as he whipped it in tight circles and down across Rowan’s back. Rowan cried out, and I cried out with him, the pain in my ribs flaring sympathetically. Cypress leapt for Jody’s arm, ripping and tearing at the gator-leather gauntlet. Jody grabbed him round the neck, his fingers disappeared into Cypress’ fur; the tendons of his forearm bulged as he squeezed. Cypress’ eyes bugged, his attack began to weaken, and he scrabbled against the floor, trying to pull away.</p><p>The blunt end of Cassidy’s maul smashed into Jody’s shoulder and there was a grisly crunch; the arm fell, useless, and Cypress loosed his hold to fall to all fours, gulping desperately at the air. Jody rounded on Cassidy, driving the fist of his good arm into his face. Cass collapsed to the floor.</p><p>Clay leapt up onto the riser beside me, his red fur stained dark with blood. He swiped his tongue across my snout once and pressed against my side, warm, solid, reassuring. Together we waded into the thinning crowd. The going was easier now, most of the humans were desperate to reach the exit and we were swept along in their wake. It took only moments to reach Cypress, Rowan, and Ash. Cassidy still lay nearly senseless on the ground, his nose grotesquely flattened, but before I could reach his side Rowan ducked his great head to nudge Cass’ chest carefully. Cassidy wrapped his arms around Rowan’s shaggy neck and Rowan tugged him to his feet, where he stood swaying unsteadily. My brothers maneuvered to make a ring around Cass and I, their exposed teeth enough to keep away most of the fleeing humans.</p><p>Cypress gave a short bark and Daddy glanced over from where he’d backed Jesse against a wall. Jesse bolted, drawing Daddy’s attention again, and his muscles rippled with the promise of pursuit. Cypress barked again, and Daddy turned to join us. We poured back up the stairs, though I slowed us with my pain-heavy movements. Cassidy had his arms around Rowan again, being towed along faster than he could move on his own. Daddy took the rear, turning to snarl and snap at anyone who followed too close.</p><p>Then we were out, the force of our passage tearing the ancient door off of the cabin, racing across the lawn to where I could see our green beast of a truck idling and smell Mama’s warm cinnamon scent waiting behind the wheel. My ear stung sharply as something invisibly fast whipped past my head. I risked a glance over my shoulder. Jesse stood in the cabin’s doorway, pistol raised, firing shot after shot. I flattened my body, lengthened my stride as the bullets whistled around me. My brothers were already leaping into the truck bed, each shifting as they flew through the air, shrinking to make room for the next. Rowan shifted as he hauled Cassidy to the passenger side of the truck and they climbed in together. I jumped for the truck, landing heavily on legs that collapsed beneath me. Daddy was the last, and as he thumped to the truck bed beside me Cypress pounded the roof of the truck twice. Mama pumped the gas, and we were gone, great clouds of dust kicking up in our wake.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>They’d come prepared, with bags of clothes and blankets. Cypress and Daddy dressed quickly and stationed themselves by the tailgate with long rifles in their hands, but there were no lights to indicate that we were being followed. I rummaged blindly through one of the sacks and found a sweater and a pair of jeans, though in the dark it was impossible to tell whose. I tried to dress, but my arms were aching dead weight and the jolting and bouncing of the truck bed made it impossible. I settled for pulling a thick wool blanket around my shoulders and huddled against the back of the cab, out of the worst of the wind. Ash and Clay joined me, one on each side, and I ducked my chin to my chest and closed my eyes, grateful for their warmth and the solid, comforting pressure of their bodies.</p><p>Mama drove with frantic speed, blowing through intersections without slowing and taking curves at a clip that kicked up waves of gravel and had us white-knuckling in the truck bed. Even so, as we sped through the night with the wind a constant roar in my ears, I felt safe pressed between my brothers, with Daddy and Cypress standing sentry. I closed my eyes, my body weary to its core, but my racing heart still wouldn’t slow; whatever TC had put in me was still at work. A soft squeeze on my elbow made me jump, and I twisted to see that Cass had pried open the window in the back of the cab. His face was a horror mask; his nose flattened and twisted to one side, both eyes rapidly blackening and puffing closed, his mouth full of blood as he smiled up at me. And still the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. My heart swelled as I drank in the sight of him, solid and whole and here. Not just <em>here</em>; he’d risked his life to come back for me, to pull me from the black place that he knew I feared most. I thrust my arm through the window and groped for his hand in the dark. His fingers twined with mine and I clung to him, he pressed my hand to his lips, leaving a lipstick print of blood behind. I closed my eyes as his thumb rubbed gentle circles on the back of my hand.</p><p>I passed the rest of the drive that way, pressed between Ash and Clay with Cassidy’s hand in mine. The wind whistled in my ears, stinging the nick that Jesse’s bullet had taken out, and the truck jounced beneath us, sending all of us in the bed bouncing in unison. Still, I felt a pleasant warmth in my chest and I couldn’t help the slow smile that crossed my face, though it was absurd given the situation. My family was here. My Cassidy was here. And we were out of Angelville, leaving it far behind us. I savored the contented feeling that washed over me, like heat from a fire on a night when frost coated the windows.  </p><p>The truck’s headlights illuminated the little cluster of stilt houses that made up my community, and answering lights flashed on in every window, anxious faces appearing to find out if my family had been successful. Daddy raised a hand in a reassuring wave, and it felt as though the village itself breathed a sigh of relief.</p><p>Mama pulled up close to the house and cut the engine. After the deafening, windswept ride the silence and stillness was a blessing. Daddy and my brothers hopped easily over the tailgate to the ground, but when I tried to follow my body wouldn’t respond. My battered muscles had stiffened during the drive, it was too much for me to do anything but inch toward the tailgate on my bottom.</p><p>“Yeh alright, <em>mo stór</em>?” Cassidy was peering into the truck bed, his eyes concerned, his hands reaching for me but unsure. Daddy lowered the tailgate and climbed back in. My body left the truck bed weightlessly as he scooped me into his arms, blanket and all, and jumped heavily down again. My indignance was buried under miles of exhaustion and relief.</p><p>“Help Mr. Cassidy get settled,” he said gruffly as we passed. I peered over his shoulder at Cassidy, who was leaning heavily on Rowan again. I noticed with a jolt that the right leg of his pants was dark with blood. I struggled weakly to get to him, but Daddy didn’t seem to notice as he shouldered open our front door and carried me to my room. The pressure of the mattress against my back brought tears streaming from my eyes, though he was as gentle as he could be, and he murmured comfort in my ear.</p><p>Mama followed only moments later with a large tray in her hands. There was a white porcelain bowl on it, pungent steam billowed from the surface of its contents; fruity smelling, with a sharp bitterness underneath. Next to the bowl was a neat stack of white linen squares. Daddy stroked my hair once with a small smile and left us. Mama laid the tray down on my night table and carefully folded back the blanket that covered me.</p><p>“Oh, Juniper.” Her voice was a hollow whisper and her eyes filled with tears as she saw the extent of the damage; the swollen knots over my scalp and forehead, the near-symmetrical splits along my cheekbones, buried in bruising that still swelled one eye nearly shut. The layered bruises along my ribs, ranging from old and yellow-green to the newest, purple black, from the chainlock. The angry red burns from the cattle prods, the rings of raw flesh around my wrists from my chains.</p><p>“You shoulda seen the other guy,” I joked weakly, desperate to ease the heartbreak in her eyes. She only shook her head as she saturated one of her cloths with the strong-smelling tincture. She cleaned me first, the cloth a warm whisper against my skin as she wiped the dirt, sweat, and blood of the tombs away. The stack of clean white linens shrank as a heap of used ones, saturated with grime, collected at her feet.</p><p>“Can you turn?” she murmured as she finished with my front. I could, slowly. I grit my teeth against the fresh tidal wave of pain that movement brought, but soft whimpers escaped anyway. Mama sobbed softly as she saw my back, a mass of deep purple welts and angry burns from clublike cattle prods. I fisted the sheets and pressed my face into the pillow as she worked, loathe to make a sound and hurt her more than I already had.</p><p>Finally she’d finished, and my rigid muscles slowly loosened as the pain of her ministrations eased. “I’m going to get fresh water, and more cloth,” she murmured. She stroked my hair for a moment, finding the only whole and unbattered spot on my body as only Mama could. “I’ll be back.”</p><p>She left the room, taking the ruined linens with her, and I drowsed. My heart was finally slowing, the toxic mixture TC had injected me with wearing off. I heard the door open again as Mama returned, but only distantly. Damp heat spread across my back, just short of burning, and a fruity medicinal smell filled my nose. The heat seeped into my skin, unlocking stiff and knotted muscles, and a soft sigh escaped me. </p><p>She stroked my head carefully, the steady, rhythmic movements a balm against all that had happened. The last of my fear finally melted away, I was fully at peace in her soft, solid presence.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>I was dreaming that I was home. It was upsetting, unfair of my brain to trick me into thinking I was somewhere safe when really I knew I was in New Orleans being hunted by a cowboy from Hell. Or maybe in Angelville, living every moment in fear of exposure. Or was I in the tombs, chained in the darkness to await my next encounter with Jody?</p><p>I leaned into the dream in spite of the prick of resentment toward my cruel brain. Regardless of where my waking body was, this short respite was welcome. My room was recreated flawlessly; the late morning light flooded through the window and across my bed just as it always did, the chain of the fan rattled rhythmically against the light fixture as it had since I was small. I was cozy in a cuddly, fleecy pair of pants and what felt like an old t-shirt, worn to silky softness.</p><p>I decided that as long as I was here, I would visit dream-Mama and dream-Daddy. It would be nice to tell them everything that had happened (or was it still happening?), without having to hide anything. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat up.</p><p>My vision greyed and I swayed with light-headedness and pain. Every muscle of my body ached, they’d stiffened over night until they had all the flexibility of an oak board. My memory of the night before charged to the forefront of my mind—I was really home, and Cassidy (<em>Cass!</em>) was here somewhere. I tested my legs, leaning heavily against the nightstand. I’d find him if I had to crawl from room to room.</p><p>“You’re awake.” Mama’s voice made me jump, sending a new wave of pain coursing down my back and into my legs. I turned to face her, my joints creaky and slow. She was sitting in the rocking chair that was normally in the living room, a plate stacked high with sandwiches on the dresser beside her. Her eyes were red and swollen, though I couldn’t tell if it was from exhaustion or tears. She brought me the plate and sat heavily on the bed beside me as I tore into the first sandwich.</p><p>“Where’s Cass?” I asked with my mouth full of bread and deli meat. “’S he okay?”</p><p>“He’s resting,” Mama replied with a touch of impatience. “You lied to us, Juniper.”</p><p>The bite of sandwich suddenly tasted like sodden paper. I swallowed it; a big lump that felt slimy and thick as it slid down my throat. “I was afraid if I told you I was at Angelville, then you’d come get me, and everyone would be in danger.” I flushed; my excuse felt flimsy in the face of the fact that exactly that had happened anyway.</p><p>“How did you let yourself end up there in the first place? Traveling with Jesse L’Angelle, what were you thinking?!” Her voice had a hysterical edge to it, and her eyes glistened with more tears. I tore at the crust of my sandwich.</p><p>“He was going by a different name when I met him,” I muttered. “He seemed alright. Gave me a place to stay. When he found out about me he didn’t…do anything.” Mama scoffed, and I rushed on. “And I didn’t <em>know</em> he was taking us to Angelville until we were already there! And then I was kind of stuck.” She glared at me for a long moment, then turned away, some of the tension leaving her body. I dove back into my sandwich, finishing it in four huge bites, and took another, demolishing it nearly as quickly. The third went a little slower, and Mama disappeared briefly and came back with a tall glass of water and some little white pills, which I swallowed without question. “Where’s Cassidy?” I repeated when I’d polished off the plate of sandwiches.</p><p>“You really should rest…He’s perfectly fine,” Mama hedged. I straightened from the bed slowly, leaning heavily on the wall, and shuffled toward the door. Mama laughed softly, and I knew without looking that her eyes were raised to the ceiling. “Stubborn. He’s in Rowan’s room.”</p><p>I could hear them, growing louder as I limped down the hall. They were laughing, though Cassidy’s sounded oddly muffled and nasal.</p><p>“So she starts throwing a fit over not getting more cake, like the messiest toddler tantrum you’ve ever seen.” To my surprise it was Rowan sharing stories, not Cassidy. His low, resonant voice was bright with amusement. I paused to listen outside the door. “Screaming, holding her breath, kicking things, punching people, the whole bit. She was in the middle of yelling that she hated us when she shifted, the yelling carried right on into yapping, I don’t think she even noticed at first!” There was a pause for more laughter. “It’s the youngest any of us shifted, brought the party to a dead stop.”</p><p>I eased the door open. Rowan had brought in one of the dining room chairs; his broad body dwarfed it, even slouched over as he was, with his elbows on his knees. Cassidy was propped up on a stack of pillows in bed, blankets pulled up to his waist, wincing as he laughed. My heart swelled to see him, though my happiness was tainted with concern. His eyes were still puffed to blackened slits, his nose still crushed into that awful sideways slope. The blankets had slid down as he shook with laughter, exposing a large, bloodstained bandage taped against his hip. Even so, he beamed as he took me in, the force of his smile squeezing his swollen eyes fully shut.</p><p>He stretched his hand out to me. “<em>Mo stór</em>…Juniper,” he murmured, and the joy in his voice made me feel warm all over. I rushed to him as well as I could but remembered Rowan’s presence as I reached the bed and settled for perching next to him, my hip pressed to his through the blankets. His hand found mine and he wound his fingers with mine, clinging so tightly it was nearly painful. “Rowan here was jus’ regalin’ me wit’ tales from when yeh were wee.” His voice was <em>nearly</em> normal, with just a touch of hoarseness to it, but his eyes glistened and one tear rolled down his swollen cheek. I crushed closer against his hip, and his squeeze on my hand tightened for just a moment.</p><p>“She’s still <em>wee</em>,” Rowan said, grinning mischievously at me. I scowled at him theatrically. “She was a holy terror, my God. Her and Ash.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, she’s still a holy terror as well,” Cassidy shot back, and I turned my ferocious glare on him.</p><p>“<em>I </em>really thought that after all that bullshit I deserved pampering and not slander and libellous attacks, but I must have been mistaken.” They laughed at me, Rowan’s deep timbre and Cassidy’s snorting chuckle filling the air, and I was filled with warmth and only a little resentment. “How did you guys find me? How did you find <em>each other?</em>” Cassidy eased himself over on his stack of pillows, groaning as his hips shifted, and I leaned back gingerly, ignoring the sharp ache of the bruises along my back. Cass wrapped his arm around my shoulder tentatively and I gave a happy little <em>hmm</em>, nuzzling into his side.</p><p>Rowan tipped his chair back on two legs. “I think it was probably about ten minutes after you ended up in the Tombs that it got back to us there was a wolf in there. Guess they forgot how to keep an illegal operation quiet while they were shut down. You were the only one around unaccounted for, so we—Cypress, Clay, Ash, ‘n me—rode out to that place you were staying at in the city.”</p><p>“Dennis’ flat,” Cassidy provided, and I nodded.</p><p>“No answer when we knocked, so Cypress got me to bust the door open.” He grinned at the memory, then shot an apologetic glance toward Cass. “We’ll replace it.” Cass waved away his concern and Rowan continued. “So we got into the apartment, and…Jesus, Junie, there was blood everywhere. What happened?”</p><p>I flicked my eyes to meet Cassidy’s, unsure of how much to say. He shrugged. “Well…Jesse’s…girlfriend?” The word felt reductive, but I plowed ahead. “She got shot, and she died. That was why he took us to Angelville. Have you heard from her?” I asked Cass after a pause.</p><p>“Yeah, she’s stayin’ there wit’ him,” he grumbled, a frown line appearing between his eyebrows.</p><p>Rowan’s eyes bugged, and his mouth opened and closed several times before he was able to formulate a response. “So she’s…okay?”</p><p>I flapped a hand dismissively, relishing his shock. “Yeah, she’s doing great. Go on, what happened next?”</p><p>It took him a moment to pick up the thread of his story again. “Right, so we’re standing around trying to decide what to do, when Cass showed up, absolutely smashed—” My cheeks ached as my eyebrows raised, and I twisted to narrow my eyes at Cassidy.</p><p>“I <em>may have</em> stopped in fer a quick nip when I got of th’ bus,” he said innocently. “’N also a very nice man sold me his Xanax for cheap,” he added with a bashful grin, and I sighed and turned back to Rowan.</p><p>“So Cass shows up, all fucked up, and oh, Ash was <em>right on him</em>. Like he’s John Wick and you’re the dog.” Rowan’s face was shining with glee. I rolled my eyes at the comparison. “It took all three of us to get ‘em separated so Cass could explain what happened.” I glanced at Cassidy again, searching for exactly what course of events he had explained. “No, he explained everything, Junie,” Rowan said, catching the exchange between us. “That was really stupid.”</p><p>Indignation swelled in me, and it was a Herculean effort to let it go. “Yeah, it was. But I couldn’t leave him down there!” I felt Cassidy give a long-suffering sigh beside me and Rowan rolled his eyes to the ceiling; for a moment his resemblance to Mama was uncanny, though he had a foot on her at least. His eyes slid to Cassidy suddenly, and a slow, sly smile crossed his face. He stood suddenly, shoving his hands in his pockets.</p><p>“I’m gonna grab some lunch. You two rest.” Without a backward glance he was gone, with a bounce in his step.</p><p>I watched impatiently as the door closed, achingly slow. The moment the latch clicked, my lips were on Cassidy’s, my eagerness for his touch at war with my need to be gentle, for both our sakes. A soft hiss of pain escaped him as my nose brushed his and I began to pull back, but his hands tangled in my hair to pull me close again, his lips soft and careful but seeming as desperate for my touch as I was for his.</p><p>It felt like forever before we separated, gasping for air, his rapid breaths whistling in his ruined nose. I rested my forehead against his and my hand on the nape of his neck, my fingers gently toying with the soft curls there. I drew the scent of him deep into my lungs, trying to flood every sense with him.</p><p>“I love you, Cassidy,” I whispered. I knew he couldn’t return it, but I could make myself be okay with that. If he was safe, and knew he was loved, and was somewhere close to happy, that was enough.</p><p>“An’ I love you, Juniper,” he murmured against my hair.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you as always for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0043"><h2>43. Family Meeting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper, Cass, and the Guidry's consider where they go from here.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter contains content that is potentially triggering for readers who struggle with self harm. The relevant paragraphs will have a CW in bold at the beginning, and /CW at the end. I will provide a bare-bones summary of what occurred in those paragraphs at the end of the chapter.<br/>Please be safe!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I jerked away from him to stare, and cried out at the punishing twinge from my battered body. “…What?”</p><p>His eyebrows furrowed and he flushed under his bruises. “<em>What</em> what? I said I love yeh!” His voice was gruff, but he held my eyes steadily.</p><p>“…you do?” My voice was small, pathetically hopeful, and it was my turn to blush.</p><p>“Yeah.” He flashed his crooked smile and my heart stuttered in my chest. “’M sorry it took so long t’ get m’ head around it.” He brushed my face with the back of his hand lightly, from temple to jaw, and drew me in for another kiss. The kiss was slow and gentle, and sweet with the knowledge that it meant as much to him as it did to me. When it ended I curled against his side again, in my customary spot under his arm with my head on his chest. For the first time I let myself enjoy that I fit there perfectly, his arm the exact length for his hand to rest on the curve of my hip, like corresponding puzzle pieces that were finally aligned just right. I slipped my hand under the hem of his shirt, tracing soft-but-not-too-soft paths over his stomach. “I love yeh,” he murmured again, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.</p><p>“I love you!” I piped, just to hear it one more time, and he laughed.</p><p>“An’ I love you, yeh silly thing.”</p><p>I fretted over my next question, afraid it would break the newfound happiness that bubbled in me. “What changed?”</p><p>He was silent as he collected his thoughts, his face far away, his fingers tracing absent paths along my arm. “Mos’ people, when they know what I am, they sorta…” He paused here again, his eyes searching the space above the bed as though the right words may be floating through the air. “They sorta seem t’ decide it don’t matter if I get hurt, on account o’ th’ fast healin’ ‘n th’ not dyin’. What yeh did fer me back there, riskin’ yer life t’ get me outta there, even knowin’ that yeh coulda bin stuck down there forever, died down there even…’N then th’ thought o’ never seein’ yeh again…” His voice choked into silence and he swallowed hard and cleared his throat, his eyes wet again. “Well. ‘S bin a long time since someone cared enough t’ do somethin’ like that.”</p><p>Rage flared through me. In my mind’s eye I found everyone who had ever mistreated him in his hundred and nineteen years, kicked them off cliffs, threw them off bridges, ran them over with cars. I sucked in a deep breath. My ribs throbbed, but the anger ebbed. I found his hand and squeezed it, hard. “I’m sorry, Cass. You deserved better.” He scoffed, and I scowled up at him. “You did! You do.”</p><p>His tears spilled over and he dashed them away, ashamed, turning his face to the ceiling. “Thank yeh, <em>mo grá</em>.”</p><p>I kissed his palm lightly before I moved on. “Why haven’t you healed, anyway? You look awful.” I kept my tone light, but each time my eyes lit on his battered face my stomach twisted.</p><p>He scoffed in mock indignation. “I look better’n you by a long shot!”</p><p>I laughed, and winced. “Yeah, but <em>you</em> have a choice in the matter. Do you have any blood bags?”</p><p>He shook his head. “Haven’ really had time t’ make a hospital run. ‘M alright, love, really.”</p><p>“We could ask Ro to go? Or to bring an animal at least…”</p><p>“No!” His vehemence made me jump, and he gave me a reassuring squeeze. “No. ‘D rather not.” He smiled sadly at the puzzled look on my face. “Las’ time I outed meself it wasn’ exactly sunshine ‘n rainbows, ya know? I’d just as soon rather not.”</p><p>I frowned, stung at the implication that my family could ever be anything like the L’Angelles. “It wouldn’t be the same!”</p><p>He kissed my forehead placatingly. “No, likely not. But all th’ same, I’m a feelin’ a little shy of it.”</p><p>I sighed, but nodded reluctantly. “Well…what happens if you don’t have blood? Will you still heal, eventually?”</p><p>He pursed his lips as he thought, and I couldn’t resist the opportunity to sneak a kiss, which made him chuckle. “Y’know, I don’ really remember? I’ve made a habit o’ takin’ th’easy way out, it seems.” He grinned down at me bashfully, and I squeezed his hand again.</p><p>“Well…” I said slowly, drawing it out. “Do you have any syringes?”</p><p>Cassidy frowned, his expression quizzical. “Nah, they all got left at Voodoo Disney. Haven’ had time t’ restock.”</p><p>I wrinkled my nose at the inconvenience, then struggled to my feet. “Okay. Stay put.”</p><p>He blinked. “Where’re yeh goin’?”</p><p>“I’ll be back in a minute. Just stay.” I waved away his question, strongly suspecting he wouldn’t approve of my plan.</p><p>Mama’s pills had taken effect, and I was able to shuffle to the kitchen without propping myself against the wall. Ash was there, leaning on the counter and eating peanut butter straight from the tub with a spoon.</p><p>“That’s disgusting,” I said by way of greeting.</p><p>“You look like shit,” he replied warmly. He stuffed another spoonful in his mouth before he spoke again, so the words came out muffled and thick. “Mm glahh or ome,” he said, and smiled widely to reveal half-masticated peanut butter smeared across his teeth.</p><p><strong>CW<br/></strong>I rolled my eyes before I remembered Rowan’s description of Ash at Dennis’ apartment. Then I threw my arms around him, taking him by surprise. He returned the hug after a moment, carefully, mindful of my bruises. “Me too. Thank you.” He busied himself with the peanut butter jar when I let him go, his cheeks ruddy with embarrassment. While he was distracted I slipped a paring knife out of the cutlery drawer and dropped it into my pocket, then shambled back to Rowan’s room.</p><p>Cassidy had put together my plan while I was gone, and he glared at me from the bed. “<em>No</em>.” It was the harshest tone he’d ever used with me, nearly a growl. I rolled my eyes as I shut the door behind me.</p><p>“<em>Why?</em> You need blood, I have blood. Does it take a lot?”</p><p>“N-n-no, but—but—” He spluttered helplessly, and I leaned against the dresser with my arms crossed over my chest. “It’s jus’ wrong! ‘N what if I hurt yeh! Or worse!”</p><p>I stepped toward the bed, and he tried to scramble backward but only succeeded in scattering his pillows. I held up my empty hands placatingly, and when he relaxed a hair I sat on the edge of the bed next to him.</p><p>“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just…<em>really</em> don’t like seeing you hurting like this. And it feels like I can do something really easy and simple to fix it. I got ahead of myself.” I smiled apologetically, and he nodded a bit. “I really don’t mind. I’m offering.”</p><p>He took a deep breath, inhaling deeply and allowing the air to <em>whoosh</em> out in a long sigh. “’S jus’ that it’s not all that simple. Fresh blood, ‘s not like the blood bags. ‘S like a frenzy, like Shark Week. It’s not safe, ‘n I don’ want yeh seein’ it.” He paused, then groaned softly and scrubbed a hand over his swollen face. “’N if I forget myself, ‘n nicked yeh, even a little, yeh’d end out like me.”</p><p>I wondered if it would be so bad, being a werepire, being with him <em>forever </em>forever, but I could imagine the kind of reaction that would get out of him. “Okay. Thank you for explaining.” I caught his hand and kissed the tattoos on his knuckles as I scanned the room absently. My eyes lit on a glass resting on the dresser, and I grinned against his skin. I snatched the cup and gulped the last few swallows of tepid water from it. “A compromise?” I waggled the glass from side to side, a proud smile lighting up my face.</p><p>He groaned and his head thunked against the wall, his eyes raised to the ceiling. “Yeh’re impossible,” he said, but there was a smile in his voice.</p><p>“Does that…so you’re okay with it?” I felt a flash of nerves now that the possibility of going forward with my impromptu blood donation was palpable.</p><p>“Okay wit’ it is a stretch. But yes. <em>Carefully</em>.” He glared at me severely through slitted eyes. I tugged the paring knife from my pocket, a little thing with a bright teal plastic handle and a wicked point. My mouth was suddenly dry and I willed my hands not to shake. I pressed the tip to the inside of my forearm, where the blue of the vein became visible. “<em>Wait</em>, wait…” He braced his good leg against the mattress and grunted softly as he arched from the bed. A deep concentration line appeared between his eyebrows as he attacked the knot of the length of rope he used in place of a belt. Finally it loosened and he tugged the rope free of his belt loops, crashing back down to the bed with a sharp sigh.</p><p>He took my arm in gentle hands and looped the length of rope around it, his fingers dancing as he deftly tied a quick-release knot around my arm. I wrinkled my nose as he tightened it. “Occludes th’ vein, traps blood down here,” he explained gruffly, tapping the back of my hand with his index finger. “’N if you flex ‘n release your fist it’ll go faster.” As I watched in fascination the veins along my forearm grew darker and skin began to grow blotchy and flushed. “Now,” he said, and turned his face away.</p><p>I struggled for a moment, fumbling the glass and the knife in my free hand. In the end I held the glass between my thighs, resting my tied off arm against the rim. I pressed the tip of the knife to my skin and gave a little <em>flick</em> and the skin peeled open obligingly to reveal pink flesh beneath. The pain was barely there, less than a papercut, but blood flooded to the surface immediately, first in a tiny arc that splashed the opposite site of the glass and then slowing to a steady trickle. I watched transfixed as it began to pool in the bottom of the cup.</p><p>“How much do you…need?” My voice was far away, hypnotized.</p><p>“Dunno. No’ much. Few swallows? Don’ exactly measure it out, do I?” He spoke gruffly, without looking at me. We waited in silence until the blood began to slow and thicken after only a quarter cup or so; I felt absurdly disappointed in myself. I tugged the makeshift tourniquet free and chafed my hand, trying to warm it.<br/><strong>/CW</strong></p><p>“Is this enough?” I asked timidly. I waited as his shoulders rose and fell once, collecting himself before he turned to eye the glass.</p><p>“Yeah, ‘s fine,” he murmured, and startled me by snatching the cup to bolt it down eagerly. The blood left a distinct ring around the glass where it had begun to clot, and when he’d licked his lips clean he thrust his hand into the glass to collect the dregs that were left, sucking the blood from his fingers with grotesque smacking noises. He seemed to come back to himself with his fingers still shoved in his mouth, and lowered them quickly to wipe them on his shirt, his eyes downcast, his cheeks flushing. “I <em>told </em>yeh,” he murmured. My eyes were glued to his face as the swelling and deep bruises around his eyes faded. His nose was next, shifting slowly at first and then suddenly crunching into place as the cartilage knit and pulled together. He caught me staring then and turned away again, scowling deeply. “Listen, this was <em>your</em> idea, ‘s not my fault if yeh regret it.”</p><p>“No!” I caught his face, healed and whole and perfect, between my hands and pulled him to me to press a kiss to his lips. “I don’t Cass, I’m sorry. I’ve just never seen you heal before.” His eyes were still downcast, so I kissed him again, more insistently, until his lips softened against mine. “Was it enough for your hip, too?”</p><p>He peeled back the bandage. The wound hadn’t closed, but new pink flesh was filling it, pushing something dark to the surface. Cassidy dug at it with his thumb and forefinger, wincing and gasping, and picked out a bullet to toss it to the floor. The wound didn’t close, but shrank in until it was a shallow divot only half it’s original size. “Tha’s good enough,” he said firmly. He left no room for argument, so I cuddled against his side again without protest.</p><p>Cassidy stroked my hair lightly, and I melted under his touch, perfectly at peace. “What do we do now?” I asked softly. We’d been towed along in Jesse’s wake for so long that the world of possibilities at my feet felt overwhelming.</p><p>“I bin thinkin’ on that,” Cassidy replied. “You still never made it to th’ West Coast. ‘N I still never seen th’ Pacific Ocean. I was thinkin’ we could head up that way. If yeh’d like.”</p><p>I squeezed him closer, warmth flooding through me at the fact that he’d remembered. “I would like that a <em>lot</em>, Cass.”</p><p>“’N then I was thinkin’,” he carried on, his eyes raised to the ceiling. “Maybe we could…sorta settle down there, like. Fer a bit, anyway.”</p><p>I pulled away to stare at him. “Are you…asking me to live with you?”</p><p>“I s’pose I am, yeah. Be nice to sit in one place wit’ yeh fer more’n two minutes.” He eyed me anxiously, and plowed on before I could respond. “Yeh don’ have t’ if yeh don’ want, though. I know I’m a bit of a mess, ‘n there’s the drugs ‘n that, ‘n I c’n be a magnet fer trouble, ‘n it’s hard t’ hold down a job when yeh don’ age, ‘n—”</p><p>I cut him off with a firm kiss, cradling his face between my hands. “I would <em>love</em> to make a life with you, Proinsias Cassidy.” I felt his lips curve against mine, and he returned my embrace, enthusiastic but careful.</p><p>There was a knock at the door, and Cypress entered without waiting for a response. He frowned as he saw us, then pinned his eyes to the wall above our heads. “Dad wants you in the kitchen,” he said briskly. “Family meeting.” I pulled away from Cassidy regretfully, glaring at the unwelcome intruder.</p><p>“Ever’thin’ alright?” Cass was eyeing Cypress nervously; my brother’s face was carefully blank.</p><p>“It’s fine,” I murmured. I touched his cheek lightly and he leaned into the touch. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He caught my wrist as I leaned away, drawing me in for a lingering, sweet kiss.</p><p>“Don’ be too long, <em>mo grá</em>. Love yeh.” My breath caught at the words, and I wondered if I would ever grow used to them. I hoped not.</p><p>“I love you too,” I replied softly. I brushed past Cypress in the doorway, where he was still eyeing Cass. “Are you coming?”</p><p>He waved a hand at me dismissively. “In a minute.” He stepped into Rowan’s room and closed the door. A thread of unease wound through my gut, but I thrust it away and made my careful way to the kitchen. Daddy was at the head of the table as usual, and eyed me levelly, his face severe. Mama was beside him, her hands folded in front of her, staring down at the table tearfully. Rowan’s brawny arms were crossed over his chest, not quite daring to glare at Daddy. Clay’s stance mirrored Rowan, but his glare was aimed at me. Ash was drumming his hands on his thighs, his eyes flicking from face to face, bored and confused. I swallowed hard and joined them at the table, anxious sweat popping out along the small of my back.   </p><p>“What’s going on?” I asked slowly, the tendril of dread constricting my heart.</p><p>“It’s your…Cassidy,” Daddy said with clear distaste. “He can’t stay here.”</p><p>I shot up from my chair again as quickly as I’d sat down. “What?! <em>Why?</em>” The knuckles of Mama’s folded hands whitened, and her lips pressed together tightly.</p><p>“Because of what he is, Juniper!” Now the anger crept into Daddy’s voice, and our eyes all flicked away from him simultaneously. Ash and I turned our faces away completely. “Did you think we wouldn’t notice? He reeks of blood and rot!”</p><p>Ash’s face was still stunned, confused. “What…?”</p><p>“He’s a <em>vampire</em>, Ash!” Clay snapped, and Ash’s mouth dropped open, his wide eyes turning to me.</p><p>“You’ve been banging a—” His words cut off with a yelp as I kicked him hard under the table.</p><p>I lifted my chin to look Daddy in the eye, though my hands shook, slick with cold sweat. “He’s <em>never</em> hurt me, he doesn’t want to hurt anyone!”</p><p>“He’s the reason you ended up in the Tombs! And you can’t trust them, you never can!”</p><p>“<em>I </em>trust him. I love him!” I blurted out, and Daddy’s face darkened.</p><p>“You’re a child. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” His voice was cold and low, distant thunderclouds rolling over the ocean. “He leaves today.”</p><p>Their forms doubled and then tripled as my eyes filled with tears. “Fine. Okay. But I’m going with him.” I spun to leave the room, but Clay’s hand clamped tight around my wrist. I struggled, yanking against his bruising grip, but he was too strong. My lips peeled back from my teeth and fur washed over me as I began to shift, only half aware of it in my rage and hurt.</p><p>“<em>No</em>, Juniper.” Mama’s voice was soft and strong as she finally raised her eyes to mine, and my struggles slowed and then halted. “You don’t know what it’s been like. Every time we see you, you’re more hurt…with more scars…it’s too much. It breaks my heart.” The pain in her voice brought a lump to my throat.</p><p>“But I’m happy.” My voice was scarcely more than a whisper. Mama looked away again, and Daddy patted her hand before turning his eyes back to me.</p><p>“You’ve had your chance to be on your own. And you’ve gotten hurt, and kidnapped, and had a full moon out of control. You’ve shown consistent inability to care for yourself or the humans around you.” I was falling. He couldn’t mean this. This couldn’t be happening. “You are to stay here, in the bounds of our village. If you try to leave, you will be <em>made</em> to stay here. Is that understood?”</p><p>My head hung low, my hands loose fists at my sides. “What about Cass?” My voice was hollow, far away, echoing from within a deep cave.</p><p>“We’ll always be grateful to him, of course. We’ve made sure he has a bag, some clothes, some money. But you will never speak to him again. Cypress is driving him to the city. He’ll help Mr. Cassidy see that this is better for everyone.”</p><p>A quiet sob escaped me. Then, slowly, far too slowly, I grasped the present tense that Daddy used. Cypress is driving. Not Cypress <em>would </em>drive. <em>Cypress is driving.</em> With a sharp wordless cry I wheeled and ran for Rowan’s room. I could see from the hallway that I was too late; the door was open where I knew Cypress had closed it behind me. I ran anyway, skidding to a halt in the doorway and panting in great whooping sobs.</p><p>I was too late. Too slow. The bed was empty, the sheets stripped and piled on the floor, the glass from earlier was gone. A russet stain that had bled through to the mattress was the only sign that Cassidy had ever been there.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Summary of the CWed content:<br/>Juniper decides that since Cassidy needs blood and she contains blood, the natural solution is for him to feed from her. He strenuously objects, until she suggests draining some blood into a glass for him. </p><p>Thank you as always for reading! Let me know what you thought.<br/>ALSO, let me know if this system of content warning chapters works for you, and if you're a regular reader who needs specific content warnings PLEASE do not hesitate to let me know! If you don't want to comment here you can message me anonymously through my tumblr, barrelobonkers.tumblr.com!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0044"><h2>44. Gone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper tries to pick up the pieces after her family sends Cassidy away.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I couldn’t breathe. I gasped desperately, trying to suck air into my lungs, but a metal band bound my chest and they wouldn’t fill. I swayed and toppled to my knees, my legs gone numb and useless. All I could do was stare at the empty, bare mattress where only an hour ago the love of my life had told me he loved me too. And now he was gone. Thick arms wrapped around me, gentle but relentlessly strong, and pulled me away. I moaned my dissent, struggling against them pitifully, but the arms were implacable. I was scooped into the air easily, held like a child against Rowan’s chest. He carried me to my room and set me down gently on the bed, on top of the blankets. The bed sagged a bit as he sat beside me.</p><p>“He’s gone,” my voice was soft, disbelieving. Rowan looked down at his folded hands.</p><p>“Yes. I’m sorry,” he said, and he sounded like he meant it.</p><p>“I love him, Ro.” The words brought his face to my mind’s eye, the crooked smile that made his eyes crinkle and shine, and I sobbed.</p><p>“I know, Junie.” Rowan reached out to touch me, but I withdrew, rolling to turn my back on him. He was quiet for a few minutes, waiting for me to speak. When I was stubbornly silent he sighed softly, and the bed creaked as he stood to leave the room, closing the door behind him.</p><p>I drew my knees against my chest and hugged them tightly, trying to fill the hollow, aching space that had opened up inside me. The pillow was wet against my cheek, and I realized I must be crying, though I wasn’t aware of it. I squeezed my eyes shut against the thought that I might never see Cassidy again. It flitted away, to be replaced with the idea that Cassidy might really think that his leaving was the best thing, the healthiest thing for me. I moaned softly, longing to hold him to me and whisper a thousand times that it wasn’t true.</p><p>The two thoughts chased each other in circles in my head, inescapable, the pain of them making me groan. I lay still for hours, the hurt washing over me, clenching my fists against it. Slowly the sharp ache dulled to a low throb and, exhausted, I slept.</p><p>My body felt empty when I woke, my eyes puffy and sore. I couldn’t remember why at first, and then the events of the day before crashed over me and I curled my stiffened body into a tight ball again.</p><p>The door clicked open behind me, but I couldn’t be bothered to react. “I brought you some breakfast,” Mama said softly. The scent of cinnamon and apple filled the air, but my stomach churned at the idea of eating. “Junie? I know you’re mad…we just want what’s best for you, to keep you safe…” I didn’t turn, and there was a soft sigh as she retreated again. I got up to close the curtains and then crawled back into bed, pulling up the blankets this time. I stared dazedly at the wall, without the will to do anything else. After a while my eyes drifted closed, and I was grateful when sleep took me.</p><p>I was aware that I badly needed a bathroom before I was fully conscious. I resented it fiercely; my body’s demand to move from the bed felt like a betrayal. At least the resentment was a break from grief. The bowl of cinnamon apple oatmeal still rested on the dresser, cooled and thickened to the consistency of wet cement. The thought of it still made me nauseous. I ignored it as I hobbled down the hall to the bathroom. The face in the mirror was hardly me. My bruises and cuts from the Tombs were healing quickly, but now my hair was flattened on one side of my head and stuck up at wild angles on the other. My eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, with dark bags beneath them despite sleeping the day away. I was pale and drawn, my expression dead and distant. The pyjamas I’d woken up in the day before—or the day before that?—were wrinkled and dirty. Clay met me in the hall as I shuffled back toward my room.</p><p>“Doin’ alright?” he asked hesitantly. I couldn’t muster the energy to glare, but I stared balefully. “It’s for your own good, you know. He looked like trouble.” I found the energy to glare. When he didn’t speak again I shouldered roughly past him and went back to bed. I lay unmoving, watching the dust motes that floated in and out of the narrow shaft of light that penetrated the gap between the curtains.</p><p>“Juniper? Mama said you didn’t eat, so I brought your favorite.” Ash drew out the last word, and there was the crackle and rattle of many small, hard somethings in a package. The sunbeams that leaked in through the curtains were watery now—evening light. “Skittles and beef jerky—the buffalo flavored one.” There was more crinkling as he shook the bag. “Come on, even if you’re gonna sulk forever you have to eat.” I turned my head to glare at him from one eye, then pressed my face into the pillow. “I didn’t know they were gonna do that! I didn’t even know he was a vampire, June, come on!” The silence spun out over minutes until he gave up. “Fine. I’ll just… leave them with your oatmeal.” He left me, and I rolled onto my back to watch the fan blades spin until the room grew too dark for my tired eyes to track them.</p><p>Cypress was there when I awoke in the morning, folded into Mama’s rocking chair, his leg bouncing as he watched me anxiously. He started in as soon as my eyes opened. “Junie—”</p><p>“Get out.” I wanted my voice to be sharp-edged, but it was dull and slow.</p><p>He ignored me, rushing onward. “Juniper, you can’t really have thought it was a good idea. I mean, <em>him</em>? It’s not even that he’s a vampire!” I stared, incredulous. “Well…not just that. The tattoos, the smoking, offering us a drink first thing in the morning? His <em>clothes? </em>Come on, Junie, you can do better!”</p><p>The little resin cast with my puppy teeth in it smashed into his chest, bouncing to the floor. “<em>GET OUT!</em>” I shrieked. He stood to leave, but stopped at the door, rubbing his sternum gingerly.</p><p>“It was the best thing for you. You’ll see it eventually.” The bowl of coagulated oatmeal shattered against the wall next to his head; grey cinnamon-flecked globs oozed down the wall. When he’d gone I curled up under the blankets again, drained by my outburst but too angry to sleep.</p><p>I was still angry when the door opened again several hours later. “Can you please just <em>fuck off?</em>” I groaned into my pillow.</p><p>“Nope.” Rowan. I softened an inch and rolled to face him. He closed the door and kneeled next to the bed, his nose only inches from mine. “You wanna get outta here?”</p><p>I ducked my chin under the blanket before I replied, suddenly conscious of how rank the inside of my mouth tasted. “Obviously.”</p><p>“Me and Ash have a plan.” His bright blue eyes sparkled with mischief.</p><p>I tried to squash down a thin stem of hope that grew within me. “Daddy’ll kill you. Don’t, Ro.”</p><p>“Probably not <em>actually</em>,” he replied, grinning. “Plus we both think it’s bullshit. Cassidy seems like a good dude. I like him. He makes you happy, right?”</p><p>“Yeah.” I smiled wistfully. “He really does, Ro.”</p><p>“Then we’re bustin’ you out. This is what we’re thinking.” He leaned in and dropped his voice, already low, to a whisper.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>I was awake in the dark, in bed with the blankets pulled up to my chin, when he came back. He closed the door behind him and turned the light on, and I groaned loudly. “How you doin’?” he asked cautiously.</p><p>“Bad.” I burrowed deeper into the blankets.</p><p>“Oh <em>come on</em>, Juniper. It wasn’t anything serious, right? Just a fling.” He yanked the blankets off me, exposing that I’d changed into clean clothes and wore shoes under the sheets.</p><p>I shot him a glare and jerked the covers back up to my chest. “It was serious! And you’ve all ruined it!” I rolled away from him.</p><p>“Junie, he was like…a miscreant! A criminal! Even you must realize he was a bad choice!” Again he stripped the blankets from my body, this time tossing them onto the floor. I leapt to my feet, hands on my hips, to glare up at him.</p><p>“Even if he was, at least I was somewhere other than here! Doing something other than sitting in a swamp doing <em>nothing!</em>” We were both shouting now, nose to nose.</p><p>“This is your home! You’d leave us for that loser?”</p><p>“Yeah! Yeah I would, Ro! In a fucking heartbeat!”</p><p>Rowan strode to the window, his lips moving as he counted off seconds silently. I grabbed my pillow from the bed—empty of the pillow, full of clothes and toiletries and my trazadone, and dove into the closet.</p><p>“JUNIPER! JUNIE, WAIT!” Rowan roared, and I watched through the crack in the door as he drove his elbow through my bedroom window. It exploded outward in a shower of glittering glass shards.</p><p>Daddy came thundering into the room as Ash, his wolf form near identical to mine, bolted away from the house, right on cue. “<em>Juniper!” </em>He gave Rowan a shove. “Get your brothers! Go!” Rowan rushed from the room, and Daddy began to shift. This was the only part of the plan I’d questioned—whether Daddy would be hurried enough to overlook the scent of me, the sound of my heartbeat in the closet. I held my breath as he completed his shift, but he soared through the window after Ash without a backward glance. I watched as Cypress, Clay, Rowan, and Mama raced after him into the woods, bushy tails disappearing into the trees.</p><p>I breathed a sigh of relief and sprinted out the front door, my pillowcase of supplies bouncing against my hip. There was a dark Honda in the driveway, engine running, lights off. The passenger window rolled down as I reached the car, panting.</p><p>“Are you Juniper?” The driver’s voice was distinctly feminine, sweet and clear.</p><p>“Yeah,” I gasped, and the door unlocked. I flopped into the passenger seat, panting, and she reversed the car back down the driveway, squinting out the rear window. “Thanks, Adelaide.”</p><p>I couldn’t see more than her profile in the dark, but her nose wrinkled at the name. “Just Ada. Only Rowan calls me Adelaide.” She flipped the headlights on as we reached the main road and I could see her a little better. Her hair was dark, black in the dim light, and piled into a no-nonsense bun on top of her head. And she was small—even in the little Honda, she had to crane her neck to see over the dash.</p><p>“Well, thank you, Ada.” She shot me a quick grin, which I returned. “What’s the plan now?”</p><p>“Rowan texted your boyfriend…Cassidy? And found out where he’s staying. So I’ll drop you off there.”</p><p>I blinked. I’d noticed that Rowan and Cass got on well, but this was unexpected. “Rowan <em>texted </em>Cassidy?”</p><p>Her laugh was high and ringing, like Christmas bells. “Yeah, Rowan likes him a lot! And I think wanted to know him a little better because of me?”</p><p>“Because of you?” I tilted my head, and her finger began drumming against the steering wheel, as though she wasn’t sure she should have spoken.</p><p>“I think he thinks…Cass and I might have some stuff in common. My mother—my birth mother—was a vampire. And my dad was human. I don’t get any of the perks or anything,” she rushed on, before I could question. “But I think Rowan is trying to be…culturally sensitive?”</p><p>I nodded, though I was biting my cheek to keep from grinning at the idea that this sweet, slight girl might have any culture in common with Cassidy. “Well, I’m glad. And thank you, again. I really appreciate you taking the time.” She flapped her hand dismissively, the universal ‘it’s nothing’ gesture. “How did you and Rowan meet?”</p><p>The corner of her mouth lifted as she remembered. “Momma was having the house painted, and he was one of the painters. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, but he was never more than polite. Drove me crazy! On the last day, when they were finished up and loading the truck, I planted myself square in front of him and told him he was taking me to a drive-in. It’s been pretty magical ever since. Momma’s furious over me dating <em>the help</em>, though.” I couldn’t see her eye roll, but it was audible in her voice.</p><p>“Not about the whole werewolf thing?” I teased, grinning.</p><p>Her tinkling laugh filled the car again. “We haven’t gotten that far yet. Thought we’d let her heart recover from the shock of me with a blue-collar worker first.” I joined her laughter.</p><p>We passed the long stretch of highway with enthusiastic small talk, and I found myself liking Ada immensely. She was funny, and sweet, but with a hard streak that glinted out from under the softness every once in a while. And she was clearly willing to go to the ends of the earth—or at least a four hour round trip in the dead of night—for my brother.</p><p>She shushed me gently as we reached New Orleans; not the city proper, but the old suburbs. She slowed the car to a crawl as we drove, squinting out the window at the street signs, and I took in the massive old houses with their huge porches and ornate spire fences.</p><p>“Are you sure…Cassidy is staying in this area? It’s not really his speed…” I said hesitantly.</p><p>“Mhm.” She was distracted, peering at house numbers. “Ah!” The car jerked to a halt suddenly, throwing me against the locked seatbelt. “This one,” she said, and her voice was triumphant. She’d stopped outside a huge two-level house on the corner. Like the others, it had a black wrought-iron fence that surrounded a spacious yard. Both levels had a large white balcony, and the windows looked as though they stretched from the floor to the ceilings.</p><p>I gaped. “Sorry…Are you…sure you’re sure?”</p><p>This time a small sigh escaped her. “<em>Yes</em>. But I’ll wait until you’re inside.”</p><p>“Thanks.” I shot her a smile and started to get out, then hesitated. I leaned over and hugged her, squeezing tightly for a moment before I let go. “Thanks a lot, Ada. Really.”</p><p>She waved me away and I climbed the steps to the door; the window was frosted glass inlaid with more ornate black metal. The lights were on, so someone must have been awake, but my knock was still hesitant.</p><p>The door opened immediately to reveal a tiny woman with bright blue eyes behind wire rimmed glasses and a cloud of white curls surrounding her head. She wore a shapeless housedress and a wide smile that exposed all of her teeth, and most of her gums as well.</p><p>I flushed immediately. “Oh! I’m sorry…my friend had the wrong address…” I stumbled away from the door, embarrassed.</p><p>“You must be Mr. Cassidy’s concubine. Please, come in! I’ve just made a rhubarb pie.” I blinked and marveled at the idea of Cass befriending the tiny old woman, but stepped through the doorway. At the last moment I remembered Ada, waiting, and turned to wave at her. She waved back cheerily before she drove away into the night.</p><p>“I’m Mrs. Rosen,” the little old woman explained. “Shoes off, please! I’ve just mopped.” I obligingly slipped my shoes off at the door; I wasn’t so bewildered yet that I’d lost my manners. “It’s a constant battle, with all of Kevin’s friends coming and going…” She led me to the kitchen and sliced me an obscenely large piece of pie while I took a seat at the well-worn wood table. The inside of the house was even more lavish than the outside, with soaring ceilings and hardwood floors throughout. The kitchen was immense, featuring a six-burner gas range and a brick oven, with recessed shelves to one side of the oven that appeared to be dedicated solely to cookbooks. “Master Eccarius and Mr. Cassidy are out right now, but they were very clear about making sure your wait is comfortable. Ice cream?” She was already pulling a gallon bucket of it from the freezer.</p><p>“Um…sure? Sorry…Who’s Master Eccarius?”</p><p>Mrs. Rosen plopped a generous scoop of vanilla on top of my pie and slid it in front of me. “He’s our Lord! The Lord of the Children of Blood.”</p><p>“…Oh.” I decided the rest of my questions would wait for Cassidy, and dug into my pie. “This is <em>amazing</em>,” I mumbled around my first bite. I felt treasonous for thinking it, but her pie beat Mama’s by a mile. Mrs. Rosen sat across from me, beaming as I bolted down the dessert. When I’d finished, Cassidy still wasn’t back, and I felt a prickle of unease.</p><p>“Is there anything else I can get for you, dear?”</p><p>“Would it be okay if I used your shower?” I felt grimy and sticky from my days in bed, and I knew my hair still stuck up at all angles.</p><p>“Of course, dear! Perhaps the one downstairs, so you don’t wake Kevin. I’m sure My Lord won’t mind.” She took my plate to the sink, then disappeared through a narrow door off the kitchen. I could hear her slow, unsteady footsteps as she descended the stairs to the basement, and I followed.</p><p>The basement was huge, and <em>weird</em>, like the set creators for <em>Addams Family </em>and <em>Queen of the Damned </em>had used it for a design competition. The walls were exposed brick, with ancient weapons and unsettling artwork hung throughout—the sight of a large, heavy mace brought me back to the Tombs, and I shuddered, rubbing my arms briskly. There were candles everywhere, both real and electric; at some point someone had incorporated scented ones so the space smelled strongly of sugar cookies dipped in hot wax. The floor was some kind of tile that looked more like cobblestone than any laminate I’d ever seen. At the far end of the room was a den area, with big comfy-looking chairs and a roaring fire. Closer to us was a gigantic pool table with red felt replacing the traditional green. Red curtains lined the windows that were set high in the walls.</p><p>Mrs. Rosen led me to a set of French doors that could be obscured behind heavy, dark red curtains if the occupant wished. She opened one of the doors but didn’t pass through, instead stepping aside for me. “Master Eccarius’ powder room is just off of the bedchambers,” she said helpfully. I peered into the dark room beyond the door, unnerved, and she helpfully flipped a light switch, giving some low light. I stepped through the door and she promptly closed it behind me, making me jump.</p><p>The walls of this room were bare brick as well, with less weapons and more red accents. There was a large riser in the middle of the room, and on it rested two gigantic, ornate coffins, both propped open to reveal satiny red inners.</p><p>“What the <em>fuck</em>,” I murmured, only half aware that I’d spoken out loud. When I managed to peel my eyes away from the coffins I spotted a doorway and sped toward it. Not a bathroom, but an enormous walk-in closet that seemed to feature exclusively period clothing of the type I’d expect to see in live theater. My fingers stretched toward one of the elaborately embroidered waistcoats, but I pulled back before I could besmirch it with my grimy touch and stuffed my hands in my pockets.</p><p>The next door I found <em>was</em> the bathroom. It was the most normal of the rooms in the basement so far, but still ridiculously extravagant; I’d only seen anything like it in magazines or on TV. The floor was black marble, or a very close approximation—I felt I was tainting it when I set down my pillowcase of belongings. There was a large claw-foot tub, and next to it a shelf of elegant decanters and jars containing powders, crystals, and liquids of every color. There was a glass-walled shower as well, with slightly more normal vessels for soap and shampoo, which I was grateful for. I pulled a towel from the linen closet; ridiculously thick and fluffy, deep wine red, with a golden ‘E’ embroidered in one corner.</p><p>“<em>What the</em> <em>fuck</em>.” My voice echoed off the bathroom walls and made me jump, nearly dropping the towel.</p><p>The shower was wonderful; the water came out piping hot in seconds, with the type of pressure that batters the tension from your neck shoulders as you stand under the stream. The bottles on the shelves had names like <em>Black Amethyst </em>and<em> Dark Kiss, </em>and their lather was thick and luxurious, filling the air with a heady cloud of vanilla and raspberry.</p><p>I stayed in the shower long after I felt clean, relishing the scorching water that reddened my skin. When the room had filled with steam and I was swaying sleepily on my feet I turned the tap off. I tilted my head in the new silence, hoping to hear Cassidy’s voice, but either he still wasn’t back or he was being uncharacteristically quiet. I wiped the fog from the mirror and examined myself. For the first time in a long while my face was free of bruises, but I had a new scar along each cheekbone from my days in the Tombs. I fingered them lightly, hoping they’d fade further with time. I’d hastily rubbed my hair dry and it stuck straight out in all directions; I wrinkled my nose at my resemblance to a newly-hatched chick. On the counter there was a comb, brush, and mirror—a matching set, shining black wood inlaid with intricate mother-of-pearl designs. I reached for the brush but hesitated, nervous of overstepping my host’s boundaries, and settled for finger-combing my hair into submission.</p><p>I pulled on a pair of leggings and a soft t-shirt and returned to the den to wait, scurrying quickly past the huge, disconcerting coffins. I tried to settle and nap in the armchair closest to the fire, but nerves and the fact that I’d slept most of the last two days had me fidgeting and rearranging myself every few seconds. It wasn’t long before I gave up on the idea of relaxing and paced the room, examining the hanging axes and swords that decorated the walls, carefully avoiding the mace. When I’d thoroughly examined each of them twice over I racked the pool balls and played absently, attempting silly, rule-bending trick shots that I never would have in front of other people.</p><p>The 8-ball had just clunked into a pocket for the third time over when I heard a door open upstairs. I heard Cassidy’s snorting laugh, and then another voice; male, low and smooth, with the intonation of a 19<sup>th</sup> century aristocrat. My host, I guessed. Eccarius.</p><p>I hung my pool cue and hurried to arrange myself in an attitude of careless repose that suggested I was, at most, mildly curious as to when they’d come home. My eyes scanned the room as their footsteps approached the stairs, and finally I settled for hopping up on the edge of the pool table and crossing one leg neatly over the other, leaning back with my hands splayed on the felt to watch the stairs through hooded eyes.</p><p>Eccarius led Cassidy down the stairs, and my impression grew more and more befuddled as more of him became visible. Knee-high black boots appeared first, made of soft, supple leather, and the edge of a long, dark cape brushed the step above his feet. He was wearing tight black pants—the word <em>breeches</em> came to mind. His shirt was bright, crisp white, with the billowing sleeves and ruffles I’d only seen in films about pirates and princess brides. He wore a vest of dark paisley, wine reds and royal purples and forest greens all blending together, and a velvet coat in, somewhat unsurprisingly, deep burgundy. He had long, wavy black hair that reached past his shoulders and was tied back with a fine satin ribbon, and in his hand he carried an elegant black cane.</p><p>Then came Cassidy, and even Eccarius’ bizarre person couldn’t tear my attention from him. He wore dark wool trousers, held up by braided leather suspenders that gleamed in the low light, with a tiny silver buckle resting against each of his collar bones. A sleeveless A-shirt in yellow, green and blue stripes clung to his slim frame, the flexing and shifting of his torso visible through the tight-fitting fabric. The collar of the shirt scooped low, highlighting his long, slim neck and perfectly sculpted chest, exposing the runes tattooed there. His arms were bare, revealing the thickly lined black tattoos that ran from his knuckles to his finely muscled shoulders. He was still scruffy, but in a purposeful way, the neat and controlled stubble of someone who’d chosen a length and trimmed daily. He’d cut his hair; it was buzzed nearly to the scalp close to his nape and grew longer until it reached the artfully untidy mop of curls on top of his head. For the first time since I’d known him, he truly looked like a man from another time, a period piece come to life.</p><p>He looked surprised by my presence, though I’d been sure Rowan would have told him I was coming. He recovered quickly, and flashed me his crooked smile, the one that froze my breath in my lungs and made my heart stutter in my chest. “<em>Mo grá</em>,” he murmured, and the feeling in my stomach brought to mind footage I’d once seen of monarch butterfly migrations.</p><p>I began to grow lightheaded before I remembered how to breathe, completely hypnotized by the vision before me. “…Hi.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading! I'm so looking forward to this arc with Eccarius, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!</p><p>This chapter is dedicated to dwtbasv, who welcomed me to the Preacher fandom with open arms and has been an amazing and supportive friend through the process of writing!</p><p>If you don't already follow her ongoing fic That Rascal Cassidy or her other works, go do it right now!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0045"><h2>45. The Children of Blood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper becomes familiar with her new host.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cassidy swept me off the pool table and into his arms and I crushed myself against him, peppering the skin of his chest and collarbone with kisses. He lifted my chin and kissed me, desperate and hungry, his lips eager and searching, like a man lost at sea for many days offered his first chance at fresh water.</p><p>“I t’ought I’d never see yeh again,” he murmured against my lips when we paused for air.</p><p>“You underestimate my stubbornness,” I replied, pecking him lightly, and I felt his mouth curve into a smile. He seemed to remember our host then, and pulled away to address him, though he kept his arm firmly around my waist and my side pressed against his.</p><p>“Juniper, this is me mate Eccarius. Eccarius, this is my…” He stumbled over the as-yet undiscussed parameters of our relationship. “My Juniper.” <em>His Juniper</em>. The words made me swell with joy, and I beamed up at him before extending my hand to shake Eccarius’.</p><p>He surprised me (though it shouldn’t have <em>really</em> been surprising) by leaning into a deep bow, sweeping one leg forward and his cape out of the way over his shoulder. He seized my offered hand and pressed a light kiss to my knuckle. “At last we meet,” he said as he straightened again. “Cassidy has regaled me with tales of your exploits. I am Eccarius, Ninth Earl of Saxon-on-Thames, Lord of the <em>Enfants du Sang</em>. I hope you have found our accommodations satisfactory?”</p><p>I floundered for a moment before I was able to string together words. “Um. Yes, thank you. Really nice. And Mrs. Rosen’s pie was great.” I tried a tentative smile and he returned it warmly, his dark eyes sparkling.</p><p>“I shall leave you to get reacquainted.” He bowed deeply again. “Good evening.” He disappeared through the French doors that led to his rooms, his cloak billowing behind him, and closed the curtains discretely. They were still gently swaying when Cassidy’s mouth found mine again, his tongue parting my lips to invade my mouth. I gasped against his kiss as his hands, still cool from the night air, slipped under my shirt to roam over my skin. I wanted to be everywhere at once; I ran my hands over his taut stomach, his firm chest, along his ribs and down over his hips to his ass, feeling urgently that I had to make up for lost time, memorize the feel of him.</p><p>His hands brushed down my back to my thighs, and he gave a sudden pull, scooping me from the ground without breaking our kiss. I hooked my legs over his narrow hips and gasped eagerly as I felt him, bulging against the restraint of his trousers. He carried me a few steps before he stopped, pulling away for a moment.</p><p>“Couch, floor, or pool table?” he asked huskily, his crooked grin flashing with the last suggestion. I kissed him again, nibbling his lower lip and drawing a gasp.</p><p>“Dealer’s choice,” I murmured, and buried my face against his neck, licking and kissing and biting, thrilling in his groaned reactions and not caring where he took me, as long as it was soon.</p><p>The warmth of the fire grew against my back, a pleasant counter to the coolness of his skin. He huffed a bit with exertion as he knelt, laying me down with one side to the fireplace and the other to the dim basement. The light of the roaring fire constantly shifted and flickered, catching and highlighting the hollows at his throat and collar. I reached to trace them lightly, and he gave a great shivering sigh.</p><p>“You’re beautiful,” I murmured, continuing my trail over his shoulder and down his arm, etching the tattoos that looped and swirled over his skin. When I reached his hand I caught it and kissed his palm before pressing it to my cheek.</p><p>He lifted my shoulders from the floor to strip me of my shirt and bra, then pressed kisses down my neck, over my chest, my breasts, my stomach. “I love yeh,” he breathed each time his lips met my skin. “I love yeh, I love yeh, I love yeh.” I tangled my fingers in his hair, gently stroking his scalp as he reached my hips and skimmed his lips along the planes of them, the soft suppleness of his mouth a stark contrast to the rasp of his stubble.</p><p>I pressed his face between my hands and brought it back to mine to kiss him slowly and sweetly, and he moaned into my mouth as his hardness brushed against my thigh. I touched one of the buckles of his suspenders lightly. “Can I take these off?”</p><p>Without speaking he shimmied them off of his shoulders, leaving me for a moment to rest on his knees as he wriggled and kicked the trousers the rest of the way off. His cock strained against his briefs, bringing on a new flood of want and wetness as I eyed it. He touched the waist of my leggings and glanced at me questioningly; I nodded eagerly and he peeled them off, revealing the crotch of my panties already soaked through. His cock jumped and he licked his lips, but he wouldn’t rush.</p><p>I stretched my arms out to him and he came back to me, his body solid and lithe and warmed by the fire. I peeled off his tight striped shirt, tugging it over his head and then running my fingers over his chest and stomach. I felt I could never get enough of looking at him, that no matter how many times I saw him like this, bare and panting and flushed with want, it would never be enough. I brushed my fingers over the tent of his briefs, and he moaned deeply.</p><p>“Make love to me, Cassidy,” I whispered, blushing, and he nodded eagerly. He tossed aside his briefs, freeing his cock to stand hard and tall and ready. He removed my underwear more delicately, brushing kisses against my thighs and down to my knees as he pulled them away. He kissed his way back up to meet me; thigh, hip, stomach, breast, collar, neck, jaw, at last finding my lips, kissing me slowly and tenderly. Our lips were still joined as he entered me, and I gasped in the soft sigh that escaped him.</p><p>I hooked my knees over his hips again to take him deeper, and moaned my pleasure when he pressed into me, my eyes closing without my consent. I opened them again, my lids heavy with lust, to find him watching me, drinking me in as if he were as desperate to memorize the sight of me as I was the feel of him. One brow was furrowed, his lips parted as he panted in time to his thrusts, a single curl of hair hung disobediently over his forehead. His mouth curled up on one side when he noticed me watching, and he ducked his head to kiss me quickly without breaking his rhythm.</p><p>“Tell me what yeh want,” he murmured against my ear. His voice was a husky growl that drove me wild with want, I arched my back and clenched my legs to pull him ever deeper inside me. “<em>Ahh!</em>” His exclamation was half moan, half gasp. “Yeh feel so goddamn <em>good</em>, Juniper.” Both brows were furrowed now, his fists clenched against the rising tide of pleasure.</p><p>I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling his face to mine for more kisses. “I just want you, Cass,” I whispered. “Just you.”</p><p>He moaned at that, his eyes screwing shut, his thrusts coming harder and faster in spite of his efforts, each one sending a wave of warm pleasure through my body. “I’m gonna…I’m sorry…”</p><p>“Cum for me,” I said against his ear, and pressed a kiss to the angle of his jaw. He did, his hips stuttering and jumping as he filled me, panting hoarsely. He collapsed on top of me and I loved the way the warm weight of him pressed me to the floor. I swept my hands up and down his sweat-slick back. “I love you, Cassidy.” It was my turn to pepper his cheek, his jaw, his temple with kisses as I repeated it. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”</p><p>He turned his face to mine, his eyes still closed in bliss, his lips blindly searching until I met them with mine. “An’ I love you, Juniper.”</p><p>We lay there blissfully for a while, drowsing in the heat of the fire, until the sweat cooled on our skin. I had only just begun to shiver when he left me and returned with a big blanket—more red and black, this time in a geometric pattern that made me think of Tetris. He prodded me over onto my side to face the fire and lay behind me, then pulled the blanket over both of us. With the fire baking my front, and his warm, supple body pressed against my back, I began to drowse and had to shake myself awake. I rolled to face him—his eyes had been closed, basking in the light and warmth, but he opened them to grin lovingly at me when he felt me shift.</p><p>“So, what’s the deal with Eccarius?”</p><p>He shook with quiet laughter. “He is a bit weird, eh? But he’s a good bloke. A proper vampire, like, wit’ th’ flyin’ ‘n th’ hypnotism ‘n th’ transmutation ‘n all that.”</p><p>“How…why…?” I wasn’t sure how to ask without making Cass feel inadequate, but he understood and seemed unbothered—mostly.</p><p>“He says it happens when yeh change loads of people—willingly!” he added hurriedly. “He has this club, see, the Children of Blood, ‘n they all wanna be vampires. So he turns ‘em ‘n then ships ‘em off to start chapters in different cities. Tryin’ t’ make the world safer fer vampires, like.” His mouth curved up, just a bit dreamily, and my answering grin was only a little forced.</p><p>“You have a crush on him, huh?”</p><p>Cassidy flushed, caught out. “S’pose I am a little starstruck, yeh know what I mean? I get so caught up in th’ things I don’ like about bein’ what I am, ‘n here comes this fella remindin’ me that it can be a good time.” He searched my face, anxious of my reaction. “’S not like Tulip, not at all. A fleetin’ infatuation, like.”</p><p>“It’s okay.” I kissed each of his cheekbones and then his forehead. “Just tell me if it becomes more than that.” He nodded emphatically. “Does he know about me? What I am?”</p><p>Cassidy hesitated, his face apologetic. “I wouldna told him if I t’ought I was goin’ t’ see yeh again. He jus’ seemed curious, though.”</p><p>I kissed him again. “It’s alright, as long as he doesn’t think we’re sworn enemies or something. How did you meet him?”</p><p>Cass scratched the back of his head rapidly, his face screwed up in thought. “Y’know I don’ really remember? I remember gettin’…quite inebriated after yer brother dropped me off. I think those Grail fascists showed up fer a minute. ‘N then I woke up here, surrounded by a shoddy Evanescence cover band.”</p><p>At his mention of Cypress my heart sank; I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him to me with all my strength. My words came in a panicked rush. “I’m sorry, Cassidy, I didn’t know. By the time I realized, you were gone, I…I don’t know what he said but it’s not true, it’s not, my life is better with you in it!” He shushed me, rubbing my back in slow, soothing circles, but he didn’t speak. The silence stretched out, and at last I pulled back to search his face. It was distant, closed off, as though shutters had closed behind his eyes.</p><p>“All’s he said is th’ truth. That yeh were safer wit’out me.” I shook my head and began to argue, but he silenced me with a glance. “Since yeh met me yeh bin chainsawed, stabbed, t’rown yerself out a window, cutcherself, bin beaten half t’ death by those bloody backwater freaks…’n it’s only been, what, t’ree months? Lookit yeh!” He seized my left arm and held it up in the firelight. The dancing flames threw the scars there into sharp relief—the puckered puncture across my palm, the still-healing line on the inside of my forearm, and most damning, the thick ropy scar that stretched from my shoulder to my elbow.</p><p>I pulled away, tucking the evidence against my chest. “You want me to go home?” My voice was small, hurt.</p><p>“<em>No!</em>” He was vehement, but when his voice came again it was soft and sad. “But it would be better fer yeh. Safer to shove off, leave me t’ deal wit’ these Grail lunatics.”</p><p>I rolled on top of him, planting myself on his stomach and pinning his hands on either side of his head. “I don’t want <em>safe</em>. I want you! I want us.” He looked unconvinced, so I dipped to kiss him lightly on the nose. “Besides, we’re out of the worst of it, aren’t we? Tomorrow we can leave for the coast. Tonight, if you want.”</p><p>“Hm.” He still wouldn’t meet my eyes, so I seized his face between my hands and made him.</p><p>“<em>This is where I want to be</em>. Wherever you are. And I get to make that choice. Not my brothers, not my Daddy, not you. Me. Okay?” Finally he nodded and a slow smile curved his lips. I kissed him again and rested my cheek against his collarbone, my eyes closed. His strong, calloused hands rubbed slow circles over my back, and I snuggled closer, sighing happily.</p><p>“Would it be alright if we stayed? Jus’ fer a bit. Eccarius’ whole mission thing has me thinkin’, maybe we could start our own <em>Enfants</em> chapter when we get settled. But I wanna learn more about it.”</p><p>I rolled the idea over in my head, the idea of working toward a world were Cassidy (and other vampires, but mostly Cass) didn’t have to be afraid of exposure, didn’t have to lie, could be open and happy. The thought made me feel purposeful, warm, excited.</p><p>“I’d like that,” I said finally. “<em>If </em>we can call it—” A jaw-cracking yawn cut me off, “--something else.”</p><p>He chuckled and his hands came up to rub my back again. “Yeh need t’ sleep. Get dressed.” He began to look uncertain as I pulled my clothes back on, and when I was dressed and looking down at him expectantly he rubbed the back of his neck anxiously, glancing at the French doors that led to the bedroom. “Listen, now, th’ t’ing about Eccarius…he’s kinda…traditional. In his ways o’ doin’ t’ings.”</p><p>I tilted my head, and it was long moments before the gears clunked into place. “…The <em>coffins?</em>” I wasn’t sure whether I was horrified or amused, but I covered my mouth against a hysterical giggle.</p><p>Cass flushed. “He says they’re comfortable! Silk inside ‘n all that. There’s always th’ couch, but it starts lookin’ like a Hot Topic clearance sale ‘round here by eight in the mornin’.”</p><p>I tapped my nose, considering. “…Can we leave it open?”</p><p>“’Course, <em>mo grá</em>. Whatever yeh need.”</p><p>“Okay. Thank you.” I climbed off of him and gave him a hand up. We slipped into the bedchambers, closing the curtains behind us, and Cassidy guided me easily through the dark to the coffin on the right. The silk whispered as he opened both sections and then lifted me in. He scrambled in after me and stretched full length on his side, opening his arms to me. I pressed my back into him, and the silky cushioning of the coffin yielded to our bodies; the hollow we sank into and the high wall surrounding us made it feel like a snug nest. I hummed happily as he nuzzled the back of my neck, brushing feather-light kisses there that gave me goosebumps. I caught his hand and pressed my lips to his palm.</p><p>“Good night, Cass.”</p><p>“Good night, Juniper. I love yeh.”</p><p>~~~~</p><p>The room was filled with red-tinted light when I opened my eyes. Cassidy still snored peacefully behind me, his forehead pressed to the nape of my neck. There was no sign of Eccarius; his coffin was closed but it was impossible to tell if he was still in it. I scrambled out of our coffin, grateful that Cassidy was a deep sleeper as it wobbled and shook on its raised platform.</p><p>I tiptoed across the room, stumbling as I reached the end of the riser, and slipped through the door. I closed it gently behind me, easing the handle back into place to avoid the click of the latch.</p><p>“Ça va, my—” The chorus of voices made me jump; it died off as I spun away from the door. There were ten or fifteen of them and more trickling down the stairs, all in hooded black cloaks and Halloween store approximations of Eccarius’ outfit from the night before. The men and women alike had ringed their eyes in black liner, and their eyes stared at me from within dark circles with expressions ranging from curiosity to clear envy and open dislike.</p><p>“Oh!” My cheeks heated under their stares. “You must be, the um…”I pressed two fingers between my eyes, trying to remember.</p><p>“We are the Children of Blood,” they chorused, still staring.</p><p>“Right. I’m, uh, Juniper.” I gave a little wave, which was returned by a slight girl with golden brown hair and big eyes, but no one else. “I’m just going to, um…” I slipped through them, face flaming, making for the stairs. “Sorry…excuse me…” Their eyes followed me as I reached the steps and clambered up to the blessedly bright and normal kitchen.</p><p>Mrs. Rosen was there in a cornflower muumuu and a white apron, kneading some kind of dough in the sunlight that spilled in through the huge windows. The contrast between the basement and the kitchen was so stark that I immediately questioned the whether the basement was as odd as I remembered or if I was just sleep-addled.</p><p>“Good morning, dear. Tea?” She peered over at me without faltering in her steady, repetitive kneading.</p><p>“I’d love some coffee, if you have it? If you tell me where everything is I can make it…” She tutted, brushing the flour from her hands on her apron, and started a pot of coffee. I wandered over to the shelves next to the brick oven, stuffed full to bursting with cookbooks from every European country I recognized, and some I didn’t. I pursed my lips, intrigued as my eyes lit on one book in particular.</p><p>“Cream and sugar?” Mrs. Rosen asked from behind me.</p><p>“Yes, please.” I hesitated for a moment before I plowed on. “Is it okay if I do some baking?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading and sticking with me this far! Comments and critique are always welcome.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0046"><h2>46. Eccarius</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper learns more about the Children of Blood.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Children of Blood continued to trickle into the Rosen house as I worked, more curious and friendly now that I wasn’t sneaking out of Eccarius’ bedroom. The girl who’d returned my wave appeared from the basement as I was whisking egg whites, and smiled kindly.</p><p>“Hi! Juniper, right? I’m Lisa. Cassidy is your Lord?” She joined me at the counter, careful to avoid the large pools of sunlight that filled the kitchen with warmth.</p><p>I snorted with laughter, my eyes on the bowl in front of me. When she didn’t join in I glanced up; her eyes were wide and earnest. “Uh…no. It’s more of a boyfriend-girlfriend situation.” I turned my attention back to the baking, folding my stiffened egg whites into the larger bowl of batter.</p><p>“Oh.” She sounded surprised to hear this, but pushed on bravely. “Well, I think he’s just wonderful. He was so kind at my Blood Ceremony yesterday, making sure this was what I wanted and that I was comfortable…if you ever wanted to join me at my chapter of Les Enfants, you’d both be welcome.” Her smile was shy, a bit anxious.</p><p>“Sorry, your what ceremony?” I didn’t look up, all of my focus was on transferring my completed batter to the buttered and floured cake pan in front of me.</p><p>“My blood ceremony! He changed me, see?” She swept her hair away from her neck to reveal four tiny, perfect punctures. I stared, and a large glob of batter and diced apple plopped to the counter. I cursed and scraped it into the pan. My shock seemed to puzzle her. “Hasn’t he ever offered to change you?”</p><p>“Um. We haven’t really talked about it, actually.” I slid the cake pan into the oven and turned to the instructions for the custard sauce. “He hasn’t had great experiences with changing people, I think. Present company excluded,” I added with an apologetic grin.</p><p>“You should talk to him about it,” she said encouragingly. “That way you know if you’re <em>really</em> forever!”</p><p>My mouth worked helplessly, but before I could formulate a response she spotted a friend and waved, bouncing away to greet them.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>The cake came out perfect, springy and light, the sugar topping caramel brown and crackling. The custard sauce proved to be more challenging. I got distracted while the milk heated on the first and second attempts, so the delicious cinnamon and apple smell from the cake was nearly overpowered by the stench of burned milk. I was on attempt three now, a fine sheen of sweat across my forehead, furiously beating at stubborn clumps of corn starch.</p><p>“<em>Whisk </em>it dear, don’t stir it!” Mrs. Rosen offered helpfully from my elbow.</p><p>“Can you please check the milk,” I ground out, my attention fixated on the pale-yellow mixture in front of me. She obligingly teetered over to the stovetop.</p><p>“It’s ready!” She brought the saucepan over and dribbled the milk into my egg-yolk and sugar mixture while I kept stirring. I grinned triumphantly as they combined into a smooth, creamy consistency. Mrs. Rosen beamed. “There you are, dear! I knew you could do it.” I sank into a chair, exhausted and dreading the cleanup, as Eccarius and Cassidy appeared in the doorway.</p><p>Eccarius’ Gothic aristocrat appearance was dramatically at odds with the bright modern kitchen. His hair hung loose in dark waves today, and he wore a black velvet overcoat with a bottle green waistcoat that had silver embroidery shot through it, catching the light as he moved. The collar of his shirt was ruffle-less, but an elaborately tied neckcloth covered him from sternum to chin. “Good morning, my Children!” His voice was rich and warm as he took us all in.</p><p>“Good morning, My Lord,” the Children in the kitchen chorused. I met Cassidy’s eyes and raised my eyebrows, and he shrugged a shoulder with a grin. He was wearing the dark trousers and suspenders again, this time with a simple white linen button-up. His sleeves were rolled back nearly to his elbows, exposing the long muscles of his forearms. The way the sleeves only partially hid his tattoos made me want to rip open the shirt to find the rest of them. I licked my lips and swallowed convulsively. A black flat cap completed the look, a few defiant curls poking out to hang over his forehead.</p><p>Eccarius joined me at the table, draping himself over a chair in a position of careless repose that made him look like a living work of art, a breathing renaissance painting. I grinned down at the table; it was reminiscent of my posturing the night before, though a little more skillfully applied.</p><p>Cassidy edged toward the cake that still rested on the cooling rack, his chin lifted as he sniffed. His eyes widened and his face lit up when he got close enough to see the fine, crunchy sugar topping and the diced apple studded through the cake. His eyes turned to Mrs. Rosen, who was busying herself cleaning up my failed custard attempts, and then to me.</p><p>I smiled shyly. “I know it’s not Sagittarius season, but I didn’t think you’d mind.” He dipped a finger in the still-steaming custard sauce and brought it to his mouth, his eyes closing in ecstasy. “Is it okay?”</p><p>“Delicious, <em>mo grá</em>.” He cut and plated three huge pieces of cake and brought them to the table along with the bowl of sauce. He kissed me, and his lips still tasted of warm vanilla sweetness. I sighed softly against him. When I opened my eyes I caught Eccarius watching us, just a touch of wistfulness in his face. He glanced away when our eyes met, but I tentatively tugged at his ruffled sleeve and brought his eyes back to Cassidy and me.</p><p>I gave Cassidy’s hip a nudge, and when his eyes popped open I glanced from him to Eccarius meaningfully. His brows furrowed, then raised, and he searched my face questioningly. I smiled and gave him a little nod. He stepped toward to Eccarius, who parted his knees to allow Cass closer. Cassidy reached to tilt the darker man’s chin up and kissed him, chastely at first, but Eccarius deepened the kiss, raising his fingers to skim the long line of Cassidy’s neck. Cass’ hands cupped his cheeks gently; their lips worked softly, sweetly. My stomach flipped pleasantly as I watched, and I shifted against the sudden wanting that emanated from my core.</p><p>One of the Children of Blood sneezed, and Eccarius and Cass broke apart, Cassidy looking bashful, Eccarius looking smugly pleased. I blushed—I’d completely forgotten there was anyone else in the kitchen. Eccarius smiled warmly at me as Cass rounded the table and I returned it before digging into my cake. It was fantastic—the batter had baked up light and airy, not too sweet, the apples caramelizing as they cooked, their tartness countered by the sugar topping that melted in my mouth. I watched Cassidy eagerly for his reaction. He added a tiny drizzle of the custard sauce to his first bite before popping it into his mouth. His eyes closed, and a low hum of pleasure escaped as he chewed slowly. He didn’t open his eyes when he’d swallowed, and I touched his wrist hesitantly.</p><p>“How is it?” I asked, absurdly nervous.</p><p>He flashed that crooked smile, his eyes still closed. “’S a little taste o’ home.” His voice was a little hoarse, and his eyes were glistening when they opened, but his smile was genuine and he held my hand tightly as he finished the slice.</p><p>Eccarius’ plate was still untouched when Cass and I had both scraped the last crumbs from our plates. “I hope you don’t mind, I’ve taken the liberty of creating an appointment for you, Juniper.” His eyes flicked to the top of my head, and I touched my hair self-consciously—It was several months now since I’d shaved it, and the growth was all one length, with no shape or style other than what I’d hastily finger-combed into it the night before. I began to flush, indignant, but my eyes slid to Cassidy’s new haircut, and I reconsidered. Maybe he thought of it as an act of service? And it wasn’t as if I didn’t need it.</p><p>“No, that’s fine, thank you.” I smiled tentatively, and he nodded.</p><p>“And then I thought perhaps some of the sights of the city…From what Cassidy has said, your experiences here have been…less than ideal.” Without waiting for me to agree he stood, his movements impossibly quick and graceful. “Shall we?”</p><p>“Now, wait a minute,” Cass said, keeping his seat at the table. “Before we go out galivantin’ there’s somethin’ needs talkin’ about.” Eccarius sighed softly and rejoined us at the table, and Cass took my hands gently in his. “Las’ night while we were out ‘n about, the Grail attacked us.”</p><p>My hands convulsed over his, my eyes automatically sweeping him to check for injuries. “They <em>what? </em>Why?!”</p><p>“It was <em>nothing</em>,” Eccarius insisted. “Cassidy dealt with them quite neatly.”</p><p>“It wasn’ <em>nothin’</em> mate, they were full ready for us ‘n kitted out! The fella from the swamp was there, th’ one Jesse let go,” he said darkly. “I didn’ get a chance at tha’ one.”</p><p>“Do you think they’ll be back?” I asked nervously.</p><p>“I dunno. Maybe no, since it didn’ go so well for ‘em las’ night. But I want yeh t’ know what yeh might be gettin’ into if we go out on the town.”</p><p>I pressed a kiss to his palm, and he cradled my cheek in his hand. “Thank you. I think it’ll be okay, as long as we’re careful. We know who to watch for now, right?”</p><p>“Right!” Eccarius said, with a triumphant glance at Cassidy. “And they’ve seen that we’re not to be trifled with.” He stood again, so quickly I missed the motion. “So shall we?”</p><p>I blinked. “Oh, now? Yes, just a minute…” I began to collect our plates, but Eccarius touched my hand, stilling me.</p><p>“Mrs. Rosen will take care of that,” he said, flashing her a smile, and she scurried over to take the dishes to the sink.</p><p>“I really don’t mind, I made the mess…” I watched, uncertain, as Mrs. Rosen began loading the dishwasher.</p><p>“Leave it.” There was the slightest edge of steel to his buttery, rich voice. “The taxi is waiting.” He swept out of the kitchen, and Cass followed. I hesitated for a moment, still torn, before I joined them.</p><p>They paused to grab their umbrellas from hooks by the door—Cassidy’s looking plain and utilitarian next to Eccarius’ exquisite, lace-edged parasol, and we stepped out into the sunlight. I paused for a moment to turn my face toward the warmth before I scurried after them to the taxi.</p><p>I climbed in between them, taking the seat with the least leg room, and squeezed Cassidy’s hand happily. He leaned down to kiss me and I nuzzled into his side. When Eccarius laid his hand palm-up on my thigh I hesitated only a moment before I took it, his papery soft skin at odds with Cassidy’s more calloused hands.</p><p>The drive wasn’t long, but this antique area of the city held history for them both, and they pointed out notable locations through the dark-tinted windows as we went.</p><p>“I met Charles Bolden on that corner, there. Nice fellow.”</p><p>“Oh, o’er there’s where I woke up th’ firs’ time I tried bat’ salts. Naked as th’ day I was born ‘n the sun comin’ up, had t’ hide in a dumpster til nightfall.”</p><p>“There was a speakeasy there in the twenties; they installed a false floor in the basement and the password changed weekly.”</p><p>“Y’know, I t’ink I remember that! Bouncer was a nasty bugger, didn’ like me at all.”</p><p>It held me in thrall, having the city’s history brought to life through their eyes, especially when Cass was usually so close-lipped about his past. It was a disappointment when the taxi slowed to a stop. Eccarius caught the driver’s eyes in the mirror, and the man’s face went slack.</p><p>“Forget we were here,” he murmured, and began to climb out.</p><p>Cass <em>tsk</em>-ed loudly. “C’mon, mate. We talked abou’ this.”</p><p>Eccarius sighed and a rain of bills fluttered to the front passenger seat. “You bring out my better nature, Cassidy.” He led us into an ancient but beautifully cared for hair salon. The walls were exposed brick in all shades of red and russet and brown, the floors smooth hardwood, with paths worn around each of the old-fashioned barber chairs. The man who approached had dressed carefully to match the aesthetic of his shop: brown wool trousers and a white button-up shirt with a tartan bowtie, his blond hair gelled smoothly back from his face, beard and mustache carefully waxed into submission. He smiled warmly at Eccarius and Cassidy, but one finely groomed eyebrow raised as he took me in.</p><p>“Are you a friend of Eccarius’?” He eyed me up and down, and I flushed, feeling woefully underdressed and under-styled compared to the three of them. I looked to Eccarius for guidance, and he smiled reassuringly.</p><p>“A very dear friend. David, this is Juniper.” He flipped through one of the portfolios at the counter and pointed at a picture I couldn’t see. “I think perhaps this, with honey highlights. And the eyebrows, of course.” I touched my brow, frowning indignantly, stung by them talking as if I wasn’t there.</p><p>I turned to Cassidy, scanning his face. He didn’t seem bothered; and when he saw my frown he grinned warmly. “Don’ worry, he knows what he’s about. He did th’ same fer me, ‘n I came out alright.” I tried to loosen my tense shoulders—he did, after all, look very, <em>very</em> good.</p><p>“Right this way, Juniper.” David flashed a blindingly white smile and gestured to the nearest chair, and I hopped in. He snapped an apron and draped it over my body, tying it securely behind my neck. Once I was settled, Eccarius took Cassidy’s elbow.</p><p>“Shall we?” He nodded toward the door.</p><p>“You’re leaving?” My voice jumped in pitch and I gripped the arms of the salon chair tightly.</p><p>“We have an engagement elsewhere. We’ll return when David has finished with you. Cassidy?” Eccarius turned for the door, clearly expecting to be followed.</p><p>Cass hesitated, taking in my anxious face. “We’ll be jus’ down th’ street, <em>mo grá</em>. ‘N back before yeh know it.” He crossed the salon to kiss me lightly, and rubbed his nose against mine. When he pulled away he found my hands wrapped firmly around his suspenders, and grinned. “Hones’ly, yeh were less dramatic about Swamp People Fight Club.” His eyes crinkled as he grinned down at me, and I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up inside me. He kissed me again and I reluctantly let him go.</p><p>They left together, the little bell above the door signalling their departure, not quite walking arm in arm but close enough that their shoulders brushed and they shared Cassidy’s umbrella.</p><p>I closed my eyes as David’s scissors flashed and snipped around my head, doing my best to ignore them. My hair didn’t take long; he trimmed the back and sides close but left the length on top, teasing my bangs down and across my forehead. He started my highlights next, and while they set he waxed and shaped my eyebrows. I clenched my hands around the arms of the chair and screwed my eyes shut against the stinging pain. The hot water soothed me as he rinsed the highlighter out of my hair and wiggled in anticipation as he dried and styled it, unable to contain myself even when my fidgeting made David sigh.</p><p>“<em>Much</em> better,” he said as he turned my chair to the mirror. I was too excited to be insulted—he’d replaced my shaggy, unmaintained mop with a chic pixie cut. The honey-colored highlights in the soft wave of hair that fell across my forehead and my newly arched brows accentuated my eyes beautifully.</p><p>The bell over the door rang; Eccarius and Cassidy were back, each carrying a bulging bag. A taxi idled at the curb, presumably waiting for us.</p><p>“Do you like it?” Eccarius seemed surprisingly anxious, though Cassidy beamed at me appreciatively.</p><p>I bounced out of the chair, shaking my head to flip my bangs back and forth. “I love it! Thank you, E.”</p><p>“<em>E.</em> Hm.” His nose wrinkled in distaste for a moment before he smiled. “I like that.”</p><p>Cass snorted a bit. “Suits yeh, mate. An’ <em>Eccarius</em>, it’s jus’ too many bloody syllables, innit?”</p><p>Eccarius laughed, a soft, rich sound. “Shall we?” He offered us each an arm, and we got into the taxi together. I was quite happily squished into the middle again. I pulled Cassidy’s hand into my lap and when Eccarius’ fingers twitched toward us I took his too, tugging both toward the center of the car until the backs of their hands rested flush together.</p><p>“Can we go back a different way?” I asked timidly, tracing one of Cassidy’s knuckle tattoos.</p><p>He was immediately alert, tense in his seat. “Why? Everythin’ alright?”</p><p>“Yes!” I squeezed his hand reassuringly. “Sorry. I just…liked hearing about the city the way you guys tell it.”  </p><p>“There will be time this evening,” Eccarius cut in. “Now, Lisa awaits her chance to fly!” His eyes lit up as he spoke, and he leaned forward eagerly in his seat. I glanced at Cassidy, confused.</p><p>“T’ go ‘n open her chapter,” Cass explained. “Where’d yeh say she’s goin’?” he asked across me.</p><p>“Dansk,” Eccarius said quickly, and Cassidy nodded.</p><p>The Rosen house was full of people—forty at least, and all of them seemed to have been holding their breath as they waited for Eccarius to return. He took Lisa’s hand and led her down the basement steps. The rest of the Children paraded down behind him; a chant of <em>Fly! Fly! Fly! </em>swept through them.</p><p>Eccarius halted Lisa at the foot of the steps, and the Children flooded into the common area and turned to watch eagerly as he faced her. “The time has come, my child.” He cradled her face and stared lovingly into her eyes. She beamed back at him, ecstatic. “It’s your time to <em>fly!</em>” He shouted the last word, making me jump, and the Children cheered. He placed an airplane pillow printed with tiny colorful birds around her neck.</p><p>Lisa turned to us. “I’m just so excited to make the world better, safer…for all of us!” It was impossible not to share her enthusiasm, and I found myself returning her bright smile. I joined in the cheering and applause as she and Eccarius mounted the stairs and closed the door behind them.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Feedback is welcome as always.</p><p>Tomorrow I start school again (Vet Tech second semester, yay!), so the time I'll be able to dedicate to writing will be drastically reduced (boo!). I have six chapters ready to go (just need beta-ing and some edits) and I'm planning to post them every other day (odd days, starting today), and from there out I will post when I can! As I've mentioned, I have a fairly solid outline in my head so it's just a matter of fleshing it out and getting it written down.</p><p>Thanks for reading if you've come this far! Until the 19th!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0047"><h2>47. Do You Want This?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eccarius charms his new guests.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Content Warning: This chapter contains attempted sexual assault.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I sat in Cassidy’s lap in one of the plush, overstuffed chairs in the den area, my back against one of the arms and my legs hanging over the other, and we watched the Children of Blood bemusedly. They were excited, thrilled by Lisa’s chance to <em>fly</em>, speculating on when it might be their turn. I scratched Cassidy’s scalp idly, enjoying the soft brush of the freshly buzzed stubble, tangling my fingers in his curls, tracing the T-shaped scar on the back of his head.</p><p>“How did you get this? It’d be from…before, right?” I was hesitant; I couldn’t remember if I’d ever directly asked about his time as a human.</p><p>He tensed for just a moment before grinning bashfully. “Was doin’ th’ milkin’ an’ one o’ th’ cows didn’ like me much. Wors’ part was, when me mam found out she beat me for spillin’ th’ milk.” He laughed at the memory, and I smiled uncertainly and ran my fingers lightly up and down the back of his neck; he closed his eyes and sighed happily.</p><p>“Lisa told me you were the one who did her blood ceremony,” I said mildly.</p><p>“Yeah?” Now his voice was cautious; one of his fingers began to tap the arm of the chair lightly. </p><p>“I guess, I didn’t realize that was something you were okay with?” I watched his face carefully; his eyes didn’t open, but a small frown line appeared between them.</p><p>“I’m not. ‘Specially after Dennis. But she wanted it, ‘n I made sure she was goin’ into it informed like, best as I could.”</p><p>“Have you ever thought about changing me?” I asked in a rush, and then held my breath. His eyes finally opened, the frown line between them deeper.</p><p>“We don’ even know if tha’ would work, you bein’ what you are ‘n me bein’ what I am.” He was avoiding the question, I knew.</p><p>“It worked in <em>Underworld</em>,” I teased, and he smiled a bit. “But say it would work. Do you? Think about it, I mean.”</p><p>“’Course I think about it. When I’m feelin’ selfish, or when I see yeh get the life beaten outta yeh for the fourteenth time in a week. But…” He hesitated, searching for words, and I bit my cheek, stifling the urge to push him. “I’m afraid, I s’pose.” He glanced up at me and must have read confusion in my face, because he rushed to explain. “Now, I love yeh, don’ t’ink fer a minute I don’t. But if I could go back ‘n never become…this,” he spread his arms, gesturing broadly at himself, “grow old ‘n die like I shoulda, I’d choose it in a heartbeat. I’m afraid o’ you makin’ a choice yeh can’t take back ‘n regrettin’ it. ‘Specially if it’s a choice yeh made jus’ fer me. Does that make sense?”</p><p>“Yes.” I pressed a kiss to his temple. “Thank you, Cass.” He turned his head to capture my mouth, and I nipped his lower lip. I was rewarded with a soft groan.</p><p>“Now stop that before yeh make me do somethin’ indecent,” he murmured, grinning. I rested my head against his chest and closed my eyes. It was several minutes before he spoke again. “Are yeh sure yeh don’ mind this business with Eccarius? Sharin’ me?”</p><p>I pursed my lips, thinking. “I’m like…ninety-eight percent sure. I like him. And this time it’ll be the fun sort of sharing instead of the pining and heartbreak kind of sharing.” I kissed him again. “I’ll tell you if it gets to be too much, okay?” He nodded, and just then Eccarius floated down the stairs, his steps impossibly graceful and silent.</p><p>“Lisa has flown!” he announced jubilantly, and the Children cheered. “Until tomorrow, <em>mes Enfants</em>.”</p><p>There was a slight pause, the Children seemed to droop as they recognized their clear dismissal. “Until tomorrow, my Lord,” they chorused, their enthusiasm somewhat dampened. They filed out reluctantly, a process that was slowed by Eccarius stopping each of them to say goodbye individually.</p><p>When the last had gone he approached us, hands clasped eagerly. “I have something to show you,” he said. I found his excitement infectious and clambered out of the chair, but Cass looked vaguely suspicious.</p><p>“Alright but I’m warnin’ yeh, if it’s a coffin for Juniper, she’s not goin’ t’ like it.” He stood and stretched luxuriously.</p><p>“No, no. Far better.” He whisked away to the French doors with a bounce in his step, and when we joined him he threw them open with a flourish. My jaw dropped.</p><p>“…Yer a bloody lunatic, man,” Cassidy murmured, but he sounded quietly impressed.</p><p>The coffins had been removed. In their place stood a vast canopy bed, the wood frame darkly stained and decorated with elaborate, swirling mouldings. The canopy was wrought iron, with baroque-style flourishes where the posts met. The headboard was cushioned with dark, luxurious leather. True to form, the linens, pillow cases, and duvet were all black with a few burgundy throw pillows scattered throughout, and the airy drapes of the canopy a deep wine red.</p><p>“I had it delivered and assembled while we were out,” Eccarius explained. “Do you like it?”</p><p>In answer, Cassidy launched himself onto the bed, giving one great bounce and landing sprawled on his back with his shoulders on the pillows, hands behind his head, his ankles crossed. “What happened to th’ vampire way, eh mate?”</p><p>“Ah, well…changing times.” Eccarius’ smile was indulgent. “And a bed that fits three is <em>much</em> easier to find than a coffin of the same size.” My jaw dropped, my mouth forming a small <em>o</em> as his intention washed over me, and that anxious note entered his voice again. “Of course, if I’ve overstepped, it’s easily returned…”</p><p>I eyed him, considering, then smiled. “No, E, it’s great. Thank you.” I pecked him once on the cheek, feeling suddenly shy, then turned to Cass. “Get your filthy shoes <em>off my bed!</em>” I shouted, and leapt for his scrawny ankles. He caught me easily and wrapped his arms around my body, clasping his hands so that my arms were pinned against my sides in an iron hold. I wriggled fiercely but only succeeded in flipping over in the loop of his arms so that my back pressed to his chest.</p><p>“Or <em>what?</em>” He rubbed his soles against the duvet for a moment more before swinging his feet to hang off the bed and toeing his shoes off. I continued to struggle, squeaking with glee and exertion.</p><p>“Miscreant! Fiend!” I lowered my head to bite the flesh of his forearm, gently shaking my head back and forth in a playful approximation of a real attack. Eccarius watched from the doorway, distantly amused.</p><p>“What’re yeh gonna do about it, eh?” His breath was hot against my neck, and my breathing hitched in my chest.</p><p>“Let me go and I’ll show you.” I tried to imitate his husky growl, without much success. He freed my arms and I flipped over to straddle his waist, pinning his wrists under my knees. “Now I have you,” I murmured, and leaned over to kiss him deeply. He seemed distracted, and when I pulled away his eyes slid over to Eccarius, still watching from the doorway. Again he seemed uncertain; it always seemed odd, a stark contrast to his coolly assured aura around the Children of Blood.</p><p>I extended an arm to him, propping myself against Cassidy’s chest for balance, and he came to stand at the edge of the bed. I took Eccarius’ hand, and freed one of Cassidy’s arms so that he could take the other.</p><p>“May I kiss you?” Eccarius asked me. His eyes, so much darker than Cassidy’s, searched my face. I touched my fingertips to his cheek and then slid them to the nape of his neck, under his inky curtain of hair. I pulled him to me; his lips were thinner than Cassidy’s but no less skilled, the copper tang to his taste stronger than Cassidy’s, sharper. My fingers curled against Cassidy’s chest and I heard him gasp, felt his cock pulse beneath me.</p><p>When Eccarius pulled away I leaned down to kiss Cassidy deeply, nudging his mouth open to combine the flavors of them on my tongue. I trailed kisses down his neck, unbuttoning his shirt to reach his chest, and I felt Eccarius’ hair tickle the back of my neck as he leaned down to kiss Cassidy as well. I brushed my lips along his collar bone and then bit him, hard, and heard his moan against Eccarius’ mouth and Eccarius’ deep, throaty answering chuckle.</p><p>His cock was straining against the fabric of his pants now and he writhed against me. Even so, when he broke his kiss with Eccarius he caught my face between his hands, pulling me to look him in the eye. He was flushed, panting, but his thumbs stroked my cheekbones lightly, gently.</p><p>“Are yeh sure yeh want this?” he asked, his voice breathy with need.</p><p>I blushed, lowering my eyes. “More than this might be…a bit much, for now.” Disappointment flicked across his face, but he nodded and kissed me sweetly.</p><p>Eccarius took my chin delicately between finger and thumb, turning my eyes to meet his. “<em>Do you want this?</em>” he repeated softly, and his pupils seemed to grow to massive black pools; there was a sensation of the bed tilting toward him before I was jerked away, the black sheets and red canopy spinning around me. Cass had rolled until I was pinned beneath him on the other side of the bed; now his hips straddled mine, his hands rested on either side of my head, but his eyes were on Eccarius. His lips had peeled back from his exposed fangs, and a growl rumbled in his chest.</p><p>“Yeh’re not to try that shite with her ever again, d’yeh understand me? <em>Never </em>her.” My eyes flipped between them, Cassidy’s body was rigid, tightly coiled over me, protective, while Eccarius appeared bemused and abashed at the other end of the bed. My stomach twisted as I remembered the cab driver from earlier, and Cassidy’s words; <em>flying, hypnotism, transmutation. </em>Hypnotism.</p><p>“As you wish,” he said mildly, completely unruffled. “My apologies.” He checked a pocket watch on a long gold chain. “We haven’t the time anyway. We’ve a reservation at Antoine’s for six.” My eyebrows raised; I’d heard of it—the oldest family-run restaurant in the country—but it was notoriously hard to get in without making a reservation months in advance.</p><p>Cassidy seemed to unwind slowly, the growl fading away before his fangs disappeared as abruptly as they’d come. He cradled my face in his hands. “Are yeh alright?”</p><p>My reassuring smile was only a bit shaky, though my heart still raced in my chest. “I’m okay, except I didn’t really pack going out clothes. Or makeup.”</p><p>“Taken care of,” Eccarius said, retrieving the bags that he and Cass had been carrying in the salon. I eyed them suspiciously.</p><p>“What did you…do…?”</p><p>“Goin’ out clothes. ‘N makeup,” Cassidy replied, grinning cheekily. I paled.</p><p>“No! This is too much! The hair, and the bed, and now this!” I pressed my hands to my face, overwhelmed. Eccarius rounded the bed in a blur, pulling them back down gently.</p><p>“Please. You and Cassidy have been a balm, a respite from the endless boredom of this life. It pleases me to do this for you.” I wavered, biting my lip. “<em>If</em> you don’t like them, they can be returned.”</p><p>“Al<em>right</em>,” I finally groaned. “But can you just…cool it on the extravagant gifts, okay?”</p><p>He bowed and kissed my hand. “You have my word.” There was a pause, and he flashed me a sly smile. “After tonight.”</p><p>“Yeh don’ have t’ cool it on the gifts fer me,” Cassidy piped up. “’M jus’ sayin’.”</p><p>Eccarius took the bags and led me to the bathroom. He leaned in secretively when we were out of Cassidy’s hearing. “I wondered if you might permit me to help with your makeup? Cassidy seemed quite enthusiastic for the look, you see, and well…I was there when it was at its height.”</p><p>“O…kay…” I eyed the bags with new trepidation, wondering exactly what was meant by ‘the look’.</p><p>“Good. Give us a shout when you’re ready,” he said, beaming, his hands clasped with excitement again.</p><p>I slipped into the bathroom and changed; the look turned out to be black dress with a v-neck and intricate, curling beaded patterns that sparkled when the light hit them. A matching shawl, sheer with a pattern of tiny sequins sewed on, draped to my elbows. The dress proper ended mid-thigh, but it had a fringe that reached to just above my knees. They’d gotten me shoes as well; short, open-toed heels, sequined, a fine rose gold. I twirled in the bathroom alone, thrilling at the way the frill sprayed dramatically from my body and the way the light glanced off the beads to flicker over the walls.</p><p>“May I enter?” Eccarius’ smooth voice was accompanied by a gentle tapping at the door.</p><p>“Yes, come in,” I said, still beaming in the mirror. He stopped in the doorway to take me in, looking gratified.</p><p>“Splendid,” he said, closing the door behind him, and I blushed.</p><p>“The twenties?” I guessed, fingering the beading of the dress as Eccarius opened a small makeup bag.</p><p>“Indeed. It was when he first came to America. New York, as I recall. Eyes closed, please.” I shut my eyes and he began to work, his touch impossibly light and smooth. It felt wrong somehow, him casually mentioning Cassidy’s past when Cass had so rarely brought it up himself. Like he’d shared a secret not meant for my ears. I quashed the urge to drag out every detail he’d given Eccarius.</p><p>“He doesn’t usually talk about it. With me, I mean.” The sharp tip of an eyeliner pencil was replaced with the feathery strokes of a brush.</p><p>“Ah, well. I am older than he—<em>closed</em>, please!” I obediently closed my eyes again; they’d popped open in surprise. “Perhaps that makes the difference.”</p><p>“That would make sense.” I hesitated, but he seemed to anticipate my next question.</p><p>“Three hundred and fifty years. Give or take. Rouge.” I opened my eyes to search his face, sure he was joking, but his expression was blank, focused on the task at hand. He turned my chin gently, first one way, and then the other, to apply the blush.</p><p>I swallowed my shock, my mind spinning. The length of time was unimaginable to me, and my awe grew as my mind flicked through my knowledge of history, over all of the events he’d lived through. “So…With you, you know, dressing like you do…Do you worry that in three hundred years Lisa might still be wearing like, Ugg boots and aviator glasses? And distressed jeans?”</p><p>His hand stilled, and I worried that I’d offended him. But then his face split in a wide grin and he began to laugh, a deep, infectious belly laugh that had him leaning helplessly against the bathroom counter until he could control himself again.</p><p>“No,” he said finally, a few last chuckles escaping. “No, I don’t worry that. Purse your lips, please.” He demonstrated and I followed suit, stilling my giggles so he could finish. “There. Look.” He nodded toward the mirror. He’d lined my upper lids thickly, and used dark eyeshadow to give me an understated smoky eye. The apple of each cheek was rouged, and my lips were a deep red, overdrawn, with a perfect cupid’s bow on the top lip. “What do you think?” That note of anxiety again, approval seeking.</p><p>“I love it, E. Thank you!” I squeezed his hands gently.</p><p>“Good! Eyes closed once more.” I shut my eyes and he misted setting spray over my face. “A miracle invention. They would have killed for it in the dance halls.” He offered me his arm. “Shall we?”</p><p>I took it, the velvet of his overcoat luxurious against my palm, and we left the bathroom together. Cassidy was waiting, his hands in his pockets, looking uncharacteristically worried. He’d changed from plain wool trousers into a black pinstriped pair that accentuated his lanky frame. He still wore the white linen shirt, the sleeves still rolled to the elbows, but he’d rebuttoned it and had donned a bowtie in a pear green that matched his eyes beautifully. He wore a smoke-grey vest, the braided black suspenders standing in sharp contrast, and the black flat cap was back on his head. My breath caught in my chest as I stared.</p><p>The silence stretched out until he took the hat off, wringing it between his hands. “Yeh’re makin’ me nervous, <em>mo grá</em>.” His eyes searched my face, his face growing more anxious by the second.</p><p>I swallowed hard. “I was just thinking, I’m really glad you threw yourself out of a plane at the exact moment you did.” His shouldered sagged in relief and he beamed at me.</p><p>“An’ I’m glad yer car was a rusted-out piece o’ junk.” He took my hands and rested his forehead against mine; he wore a woody, musky scent—cedar or pine. “Yeh look absolutely stunning, Juniper. Beautiful.”</p><p>My cheeks warmed. “I’m so glad I met you.”</p><p>Eccarius cleared his throat. “The city awaits?”</p><p>Cassidy and I sprang apart and followed him up the stairs to the front door. Outside, a gleaming black limousine waited for us under one of the streetlamps.</p><p>My jaw dropped. “<em>E!</em>” I scolded, scandalized.</p><p>He laughed. “After tonight. As I said.”</p><p>They positioned themselves one on each side of me, towering over me even in my heels, and we linked arms. Despite my misgivings about the limo, I couldn’t help the wide grin that crossed my face and the thrill of anticipation that set my heart speeding. As one, we stepped out into the balmy New Orleans evening.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! Comments and critique are always welcome.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0048"><h2>48. A Night Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eccarius and Cassidy introduce Juniper to the best New Orleans has to offer.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>True to his word, Eccarius had the limo driver take a slow, meandering route into the city. It seemed every corner, every business we passed held some memory for him; unavoidable when you’ve lived in a city since before it’s founding, I supposed. His stories were riddled with famous names—he’d had drinks with Fitzgerald, painted and been painted by Degas, argued the fine details of vampire fact and fiction with Anne Rice. I craned my neck this way and that, trying to glimpse each location through the throng of pedestrians before we’d passed by.</p><p>Cassidy’s contributions were fewer and farther between. They almost exclusively focused on drinking or worse with people with names like Jelly Roll or Fats, with the exception of one.</p><p>“Tha’ there’s where I met Dennis’ mam.” He pointed at a tiny jazz club, smiling wistfully. The buildings on either side dwarfed it, with bright neon lights that cast the doorway in shadow. If he hadn’t pointed it out my eyes would have slid right over it. I gave his hand a squeeze and he continued. “She was doin’ a one-woman set. Playin’ cello ‘n singin’. Watchin’ th’ way her fingers moved on th’ strings could fill a man wi’ butterflies.”</p><p>“What happened to her?” I asked, and immediately kicked myself, cringing internally at my stupidity.</p><p>“I dunno,” Cass replied. “I kep’ what I am secret from her, for a while. It was hard, but I’d never tol’ anyone. When she found out she didn’ take it so well.” I pressed a kiss to each of his fingers over the tattoos there. “’S alright,” he said, smiling down at me. “Rather be wit’ someone who knows ‘n still wants me around.” I pressed my lips to his, trying to pour all the love I couldn’t articulate into a single kiss.</p><p>The rest of the ride passed in silence, our jubilant mood somewhat dampened. At last the limousine pulled up outside Antoine’s and we piled out. I’d seen pictures, but they didn’t do it justice. The restaurant was two stories, with fine wood-paneled doors all along the first story and immense windows that glowed with warm golden light from within. The second level had a balcony that stretched the length of the building, the rails that surrounded it were shining white metal, impossibly intricate, almost lacy. Leafy potted plants hung from the eaves that sheltered the balcony, their fronds offering a measure of privacy to the diners within. Eccarius and Cassidy each took an arm, and I realized I’d been staring open-mouthed at the storefront.</p><p>The host greeted Eccarius by name and led us away from the main dining area, down a narrow hallway and to a private room with a large oval table set for three in its center. The walls were painted deep red, with old painted portraits hung at even intervals—one bore a striking resemblance to Eccarius. Two elegant chandeliers hung at opposite ends of the room, casting us in buttery yellow light. The mantel, the chairs, and the doorway were painted black. The host placed a menu at each seat, filled our glasses, and left us with a smile.</p><p>“The 1840 Room,” Eccarius explained, sweeping his overcoat off to hang it on the nearest chair. “I helped to design it.” Cassidy pulled out a chair for me and I sat, smoothing my dress over my thighs, still gaping wide-eyed at the elegant room. Cass took the third seat and squeezed my hand under the table gently—I was grateful for his grounding presence. “You simply <em>must</em> try the Oysters Rockefeller,” Eccarius said, without glancing at the menu. “They were created here, you know.”</p><p>“Okay…” I smiled at him tentatively, feeling terribly at odds with my beautiful surroundings. I looked down at my menu; a single sheet of heavy, luxurious paper with a short list of dishes and no prices. I swallowed. “I really don’t know if—”</p><p>“Nonsense. You are my guests. As I said, it is my pleasure to treat you.” He smiled warmly and took my other hand, and I allowed myself to relax.</p><p>A waiter entered, black-suited with a black bowtie, carrying three plates of oysters. He placed one in front of each of us, and my mouth watered as the scents of butter, garlic, and parmesan filled my nose.</p><p>“Something to drink?” he asked, producing a wine menu seemingly out of nowhere.</p><p>I expected Cass to make his usual request for whiskey, but he surprised me. “A bottle of Cuvée de Réserve, if yeh’d be so kind. <em>Brut blanc de blancs.</em>” The waiter nodded once and whisked away again. Cassidy caught me staring as the door closed behind the waiter. “What? I was quite rich for a while, yeh know.”</p><p>I blushed and lowered my gaze to the table. “Nothing. I love you.”</p><p>When I glanced back up he was squinting at me suspiciously. “I love you too,” he said finally.</p><p>I turned my attention to the plate of oysters, and the three different forks that rested next to it. I reached for the one nearest me, then hesitated, my flush deepening. There was a very small cough from Eccarius’ seat, but when I glanced up he wasn’t looking at me. I watched as he oh-so-delicately used the smallest fork to twist an oyster in its shell before dredging it through the thick, buttery sauce and raising it to his mouth. He caught my eye as he delicately plucked the oyster off the fork and smiled gently. I gave him a grateful nod, blushing again.</p><p>I successfully maneuvered one of the oysters out of its shell, though not quite as gracefully as Eccarius had, and placed it between my lips, careful not to drip down my chin. The rich, herbed sauce flooded my senses, the oyster was impossibly tender and seemed to melt in my mouth as I chewed. I closed my eyes to savor it, my mouth working slowly, the warm juices rolling across my tongue. Notes of each herb tickled my memory, bringing me to the brink of recognition before a new flavor came bursting to the forefront. When I’d swallowed and opened my eyes I saw Eccarius leaning eagerly across the table, his expression rapt, his eyes glued to my face. I blushed and turned to Cass, who’d taken a break from his plate to watch me as well.</p><p>“Do you like them?” Eccarius asked, though the answer was clear. I was already carefully working my second oyster from it’s shell.</p><p>“They’re <em>amazing</em>,” I sighed dreamily, and popped the second one in my mouth.</p><p>The waiter appeared again only moments after the last of the oysters were gone, with the champagne and a bucket of ice. He poured each of us a small glass and stepped back from the table. “Have you decided?”</p><p>I rushed to scan the menu; I’d completely forgotten that we still had to order. I began to sweat as the waiter watched; I couldn’t seem to process the descriptions of the dishes.</p><p>Eccarius saved me again, ordering smoothly without glancing at the menu. “The pompano pontchartrain please, and the creole shrimp, and the classic fish amandine. With the crab, if you please.”  The waiter nodded once and disappeared without writing anything down. I took a small sip of my champagne—there was just a hint of sweetness to it, and the bubbles seemed to tickle my tongue, the pleasant lightness a welcome contrast to the richness of the oysters.</p><p>Truer to his usual form, Cassidy’s champagne disappeared down his throat in one quick swig and poured himself another glass, to the brim this time. “What else yeh got in mind fer tonight, mate?” he asked Eccarius across the table, sipping more slowly now.</p><p>“I thought perhaps a stroll down Bourbon street, to show Juniper some of the more classic sights…” He glanced over me, a secretive smile curving his lips. I swallowed and turned my eyes to Cassidy.</p><p>His eyes were alight with understanding and mischief. “<em>Yes</em>, I hear yeh. Although, her tolerance fer liquor’s even worse’n yours, we’ll have t’ pace ourselves.”</p><p>I swelled with indignation; when he glanced me I swallowed down the rest of my champagne while holding his eyes fiercely, and he laughed. My hand only wavered a bit when I put the glass back down.</p><p>Our entrees came then, beautifully plated and sending up tendrils of finely scented steam, each looking more delicious than the last. We crowded our chairs together and shared each of them, feeding each other the best morsels from our plates. The pompano was flaky and light, the crab meat buttery and tender, the breading of the amandine a delicate shell that gave way to warm, lemon-and-parsley tinted fish. On my left Eccarius lifted a spear of broccoli, dripping in clear savory sauce, seared to perfection, the florets seeming to pop with flavor against my tongue. On my right Cassidy offered a chunk of crab meat from his fingers, gleaming with butter in the low light. I took it between my lips daintily and sucked his fingers clean, watching as his eyes grew dark with lust.</p><p>Again the waiter arrived with impeccable timing, swooping in to collect our plates as Cassidy finished the last of the steamed rice. I leaned back in my chair, perfectly sated.</p><p>“Dessert?” Eccarius offered. “Their jubilee cheesecake is to die for.” My interest was piqued, but Cassidy shook his head.</p><p>“Not if yeh want me to walk anywhere, mate.” I glanced at him and grinned—he had a tiny potbelly that hadn’t been there before, gently displacing the straps of his suspenders.</p><p>“Perhaps next time,” Eccarius said with a smile. We sipped the last of the champagne and I wrestled against the urge to ask where we were going next. At last Eccarius stood, donning his overcoat with a flourish. “Shall we?”</p><p>Bourbon Street was a shock after the quiet privacy of our room inside Antoine’s. The sidewalk was alive with people, spilling into the road, so crowded it seemed the very pavement writhed with electric energy. Music poured from every doorway, growing and fading and overlapping until it took on a life of its own. The crowd in the street held the widest array of people I’d ever seen in one place, every facet of humanity seemed to be there. As we made our way up the street arm-in-arm I suddenly understood how someone like Eccarius could live in this city and pass mostly unnoticed.</p><p>We’d only been strolling for a few minutes before Eccarius and Cassidy stopped in the doorway to a two-story, largely non-descript white corner building. The sign that announced it as ‘Jean Lafitte’s Old Absinthe House’ was reminiscent of the signs that hung outside saloons in old westerns.</p><p>“This place is older’n me, if yeh can believe that,” Cassidy said, grinning down at me.</p><p>I turned to Eccarius, my eyebrows raised, but he laughed. “Not quite.”</p><p>Stepping into the Old Absinthe House was like being thrust into the past—though the beats of modern music still thumped against our backs from the propped open doors. A long, four-sided bar was the centerpiece, made of ancient, well-worn red-tinted wood. Hundreds of bottles stood behind it, with contents of every color and labels in every language that I could imagine. The stools that rested against the bar were old, deeply cushioned, with the padding beginning to flatten with use. The walls were an anchor to the present, every inch of them covered in layers and layers of business cards. I crept closer to read some of them—hair salons, dog walkers, DJs, florists, painters, and many more had left their mark. </p><p>Cassidy’s arms wrapped around me and he kissed my neck lightly; the scratch of his stubble made me shiver. “Are yeh havin’ a good night?” he asked quietly.</p><p>“Yes!” I spun to kiss him, and followed him to the bar, taking the seat to his right while Eccarius sat to his left. The bartender, a grizzled man in his fifties, was eyeing Eccarius grumpily.</p><p>“Don’ worry, mate, I’ll keep a leash on ‘im tonight,” Cassidy reassured him, and I was shocked to see a blush in Eccarius’ cheeks.</p><p>“What does that mean?” I asked, leaning forward over the bar so that I could see both of their faces.</p><p>“It means that while yers truly was developin’ a superhuman resistance to all t’ings toxic, this eedjit was wastin’ his time with’ learnin’ nineteen languages ‘n how to play th’ harp. Man can’t drink t’ save his life.” We laughed, and Eccarius’ blush deepened. Cass held up three fingers to the bartender. He got out three tiny stemware glasses, and three tiny utensils that looked like flattened spoons with holes through the widest parts. He rested one utensil across the rim of each of the glasses and balanced a tiny sugar cube on top of that. With a practiced hand he poured a splash of absinthe over the sugar—less than half a shot, from what I could see. With a casual, uninterested expression he lit each of the cubes on fire, and I shrank back in spite of myself but watched in fascination as sugar slowly melted away. When the fire sputtered out the bartender poured a few ounces of water into the cups and stirred in the remains of the sugar. The result that he slid across the bar was a tiny glass of pearlescent liquid with just a light sheen of green.</p><p>Eccarius toasted us, clinking his glass first against Cassidy’s, and then mine. “Sláinte,” he murmured—to my uneducated ears it sounded like <em>slawnchuh</em>, and Cassidy’s crooked smile flashed.</p><p>“Aye, sláinte,” he said, and drained his cup in one go before he turned to me. “Now go easy on that, mind, or we’ll be carryin’ yeh home.”</p><p>I lifted my glass in another toast. “Cilantro,” I said, grinning cheekily. I lifted my glass but hesitated, swirling the absinthe in slow circles. “Cass?” I murmured, keeping my voice low.</p><p>“Hm?” He waved to get the bartender’s attention and pointed to his glass, requesting another.</p><p>“If…stuff happens, like earlier with you and E, when I’m tipsy, it’s okay. I want it to. Okay?” He glanced down at me, eyebrows raised, and I blushed.</p><p>“Are yeh sure about that? Yeh don’ have to, yeh never have t’ do anythin’ yeh don’ want to. ‘Specially not fer me.” I squeezed his hand gratefully and kissed him—the scent of absinthe on his breath burned my nose.</p><p>“I know. I want to. I’m pre-consenting.” I beamed up at him, and when he leaned in to kiss me again I grabbed the back of his head, thrusting my tongue into his mouth and biting his lip before I pulled away. He grinned into his absinthe glass as he drank; I picked mine up and tested a small sip. The burn was immediate and strong, and it was a struggle not to cough. I tried another, and when I was braced for the burn of it, I could find other notes—the sweetness of the sugar, and a light herbal taste that reminded me of black licorice. When I put my glass down the second time the connection between my head and my hand felt distant, like echoes down a long tunnel. I pushed my cup to Cassidy’s elbow and rested my head on his shoulder. He pecked the top of my head and finished it; his third absinthe in as many minutes. Eccarius was steadily sipping at his drink under the cautious eye of the bartender.</p><p>“How much does it <em>actually</em> take to even slow you down?” I asked, smiling moonily up at Cass.</p><p>“What, alcohol? By itself, yeh mean?” I nodded. “T’ quote one o’ th’ great films of our time, th’ limit does not exist. So far’s I know.” He waved to the bartender, ordering himself a fourth. My brow furrowed as I worked to place the quote, and when I did I dissolved into a fit of giggles, falling forward to rest my head on my arms. Cass chuckled beside me, and rubbed firm circles over my back. By the time I’d quieted enough to sit up, carefully wiping my streaming eyes, Eccarius had finished his drink.</p><p>“Is it alright if we go somewhere with some weaker drinks?” I asked timidly.</p><p>Cassidy met Eccarius’ eyes, and silent communication seemed to flow between them. “Of course, my dear. Come,” He stood quickly, stumbling just a bit, covering it with an elegant flourish of his overcoat. Cass slapped a handful of bills down on the bar and we were off again, out into the electric energy of nighttime New Orleans. The walk was longer this time, and I began to bounce and jitter with excitement as my absinthe-addled brain drank in the vitality that surrounded us. I fell a few steps behind Cassidy and Eccarius and took a running start to leap onto Eccarius’ back, my arms around his neck, my cheek pressed against his silky hair. I had about as much effect as a feather drifting to land in someone’s hand, and felt more than heard his soft laughter as I pressed my lips to the angle of his jaw.</p><p>Cassidy was there then, throwing his arm around my shoulders. He tried to kiss me, but his strides were out of synch with Eccarius’ so we bounced apart, and together, and apart again, giggling helplessly. He grabbed Eccarius’ hands to stop him and kissed me properly, then Eccarius.</p><p>Eccarius straightened as he recognized the storefront we’d halted in front of. “<em>This </em>place is one to remember, come!” He started toward the shop, a narrow door set in dark grey siding—<em>Marie Laveau’s House of Voodoo</em>.</p><p>“<em>NO!</em>” Cass and I shouted it at the same time, and the revelers nearest to us paused to stare. Eccarius’ feet stuttered to a halt. “T’ink we’ve bot’ had enough o’ voodoo to last even one of our lifetimes, mate,” Cass said flatly, and I pressed my face against Eccarius’ shoulder to stifle my giggles. Eccarius shrugged and moved on.</p><p>It was only one block more to reach our destination, a two-story salmon-colored building draped in rainbow flags. The frame around the door was painted flawless white, and protruding letters above it named the place: <em>Café Lafitte in Exile</em>.</p><p>“In exile?” I asked.</p><p>“Use to be they had a spot down th’ street there,” Cass explained, pointing. “But in t’ fifties th’ bastard of a landlord kicked ‘em out, so they brought everythin’ here ‘n got set up again.”</p><p>I slid off of Eccarius’ back and followed them into the bar, pulsing with music and people. The walls were wood panel and exposed brick, the ceiling naked wood beams. The bar was long and curving, the square stools lined neatly along it, their red seats gleaming. We chose a table in a quieter corner, and Eccarius and I slid into seats.</p><p>“Right, what d’ya want?” Cass asked, still standing.</p><p>“Something…fruity? And light, please,” I requested.</p><p>“The same,” Eccarius said decisively, and Cass disappeared into the throng.</p><p>“Thank you for tonight, E.” I smiled across the table at him. “You know, I’ve never seen Bourbon street as a human before?”</p><p>He flashed his bright teeth. “Yes, well, nor have I,” he said, and I laughed. “It’s refreshing, to see it again through young eyes. And to spend time with people who treat me like…” For the first time since I’d met him, he floundered for words.</p><p>“A person?” I offered, and he nodded. Cassidy returned with our drinks—tall glasses with pale pink contents for Eccarius and me and an unopened bottle of Bushmills under his arm. He spun took the seat next to me, giving the cap on his bottle a spin to send it flying.</p><p>“I t’ought of a way we c’n drink together wit’out Juniper dyin’,” he announced, looking quite proud of himself. I raised my eyebrows, intrigued. “Bot’ o’ you familiar wit’ never have I ever?”</p><p>“Yes!” I jumped on the idea immediately, grinning eagerly.</p><p>“…No,” Eccarius said, looking slightly put out.</p><p>“It’s simple, mate. One of us says somethin’ they never ever done, like ‘never have I ever bin physically able t’ lick me own arsehole.’ If yeh’ve done th’ thing, yeh drink. If not, yeh don’t.” He smiled at both of us slyly, and I glared at him over the rim of my glass as I sipped my drink.</p><p>“…Fuck, that’s good. Thank you, Cass.” I took an extra sip. Across from me, Eccarius was smiling into his glass as he sipped. “Never have I ever jumped out of an airplane,” I said, and Cassidy toasted me before swigging from his bottle.</p><p>“Never have I ever voyaged upon the Titanic,” Eccarius said, and drank.</p><p>“Tha’s not how…ehh.” Cass shrugged helplessly, then his face screwed up in thought. “Never have I ever bin able t’ fly,” he said, and Eccarius drank again.</p><p>I pursed my lips. “Never have I ever killed the same person more than once,” I said, smirking, and Cassidy drank again. Eccarius’ eyebrows raised questioningly. “Angels,” I explained.</p><p>“Never have I ever seen an angel,” Eccarius tried, his gaze shifting back and forth between us. Cass and I  exchanged amused glances as we drank. “Really! What were they like?” he asked, leaning forward eagerly.</p><p>“Tall,” I said.</p><p>“Short,” Cass said at the same time, and we exchanged grins. “They jus’ looked like blokes in goofy matchin’ clothes.”</p><p>“Who could come back from the dead,” I added. “They’re the ones who gave me this,” I added, lifting my shawl to display the ropy scar that twisted along my arm. “Chainsaw, when I showed up to save Cassidy’s ass.”</p><p>Cass waggled a finger in my face, scowling in outrage, though his eyes sparkled with repressed laughter. “No! We’re not doin’ this again! For th’ las’ time, yeh <em>helped me</em>. Yeh didn’ s<em>ave me!</em>”</p><p>“Right! I remember now! You had it completely in hand.” I turned to Eccarius and shielded my mouth from Cass theatrically. “<em>He was getting totally wrecked</em>,” I said in a loud stage whisper, and Eccarius laughed. Cassidy threw himself back in his seat, glaring furiously, but he couldn’t hold his ferocious frown and soon he was laughing too.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you thank you thank you as always for reading! Comments and criticism are always welcome.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0049"><h2>49. You, Her, and Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper, Cassidy, and Eccarius return home from their night on the town.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I sprawled across Eccarius and Cassidy in the back of the limousine, my head tilted back to watch the neon lights of the city flash by. An old Rick James song played softly, and Cassidy was humming along, his voice low and rich. My head lay in Eccarius’ lap; he’d loosened up significantly through the evening, but not so much that he’d allow dirty shoes to touch his immaculate clothing. My feet rested on Cassidy’s thighs; the fingers of one hand traced light circles over my ankle, occasionally straying as high as my knee—just often enough to stave off any possibility of me drowsing. My eyes had just drifted closed when his fingertips skated up my leg to my inner thigh. A coil of want twisted through me and I gasped, twitching against his hand. He chuckled and retreated to my ankle again, earning a sharp glare. </p><p>Eccarius seemed to notice what Cassidy’s hands were up to for the first time, and after a moment of careful observation he began to trail his fingers over the sensitive skin of my neck; from jaw to collarbone, across my sternum, back up. I sighed softly and twisted my head to one side, then eyed him a little nervously.</p><p>“Is that a sexy touch or a hungry touch?” Cassidy’s hand froze on my ankle, squeezing a warning, but Eccarius only snorted softly.</p><p>“I am well satiated. I assure you, my intentions are…not <em>pure</em>, perhaps, but harmless.” His hand stilled against my neck, awaiting permission to continue.</p><p>“Hm. Okay.” I closed my eyes again, but then squinted up at him as another thought occurred to me. “You say so if that changes. Them’s the rules.”</p><p>His lips curved into a slow smile. “You have my word.” I scanned his face for a moment before allowing my eyes to fall closed and turning my head away. He waited a minute more (in case of more rules, perhaps) before his hands resumed their gentle, but electrifying, course over my skin. His hands and Cassidy’s seemed to drift toward each other—Eccarius straying below my collarbone to the swell of my breast here, Cassidy’s fingers roaming my thighs under my dress there. I kept my eyes closed and tried to stifle the soft wanting gasps and whimpers that their attention drew from my throat, my body shivering and twitching with each gentle new sensation.</p><p>One of Cassidy’s hands left my skin for just a moment and I whined over its absence. There was a soft, sustained whirr before it returned and I understood that he’d closed the partition between us and the driver. His fingers never dipped below my knees now, his touch still torturously light as he traced slow circles against my inner thighs, occasionally dipping around to the back. Only once did he allow his fingers to brush the soft cotton that covered my mound, and I jerked against him, quivering for more. Eccarius’ hands now dwelled at my collarbone or below, he trailed slow circles around each breast and brushed my nipples, teasing them into stiff peaks. I gasped and arched into his hands and he drew away, refusing me the firm pressure I craved. I smiled smugly as I realized I could feel him beginning to throb and harden through his many layers of clothing.</p><p>My heels thumped against the seat of the limo and Cassidy’s face appeared only inches away, his warm, lithe body brushing against me as he loomed over me. He pressed his lips to mine, and then along my jaw, down my neck, to my collarbone. He kissed Eccarius, who cradled the back of his head to draw him closer, his other hand still working slow, gentle circles over my breasts. As their mouths worked one of Cassidy’s hands crept up my thigh to stroke me over my panties with exhilarating, infuriating lightness, again drawing away when I writhed and thrust against him.</p><p>Cass lowered his lips to my ear; he sucked the lobe for just a moment, drawing a breathy groan. “<em>Mo grá</em>…” he murmured. His fingers continued their agonizing, euphoric teasing against my covered folds.</p><p>“Yes…?” The word was a gasp. One hand was fisted tightly around his suspender, holding him against me, and the other wandered up to Eccarius’ hair, burying itself in the shining black locks.</p><p>“We’re home.” I could hear the mischievous smile in his voice, and in a flash he was gone, the limo door closing behind him, leaving me breathless and aching with want.</p><p>“<em>Bastard,</em>” I muttered, and Eccarius’ deep chuckle came from above me.</p><p>“We love him all the more for it,” he said, and slid out of the limousine, leaving me lying unsatisfied on the seat. He helped me out of the car carefully, and when my unruly legs wobbled beneath me I was grateful for his unwavering strength. Cassidy was watching from the porch, bathed in the warm glow of the light next to the door, as Eccarius drew me in for a kiss, his hands sliding to the small of my back to pull me close, the whisper of his velvet coat against my skin making me shiver. A sudden gust of wind whipped the fringe of my dress against my thighs and when I opened my eyes we were on the porch next to Cass, who scoffed quietly as I reeled.</p><p>“Bleedin’ unnecessary, mate,” he scolded, but his lips were curved in a smile. I slipped my shoes off as we entered, anxious of waking Kevin or Mrs. Rosen with the loud clack of the heels against the hardwood. I needn’t have worried, because as soon as the three of us had passed the threshold, Eccarius put an arm around each of us and I was squinting against the wind, the house around me a blur of streaking color.</p><p>When the world came into focus again we were lying on our backs on the huge canopy bed, Eccarius between us, his arms still wrapped around our shoulders.</p><p>“Why the rush?” My voice was dazed; the room still swirled around me, the bed swayed like a ship on a rough sea.</p><p>Cassidy recovered faster than me, and he rolled to straddle Eccarius, grinding against him as their lips met; the fabric of his trousers stretched taut over his ass and I wet my lips as I watched appreciatively.</p><p>The arm that rested under my shoulders shifted gently, and I rolled to free it. Eccarius’ hands stroked up Cassidy’s thighs and stopped at his pelvis, the pads of his thumbs rubbing slow, hypnotic circles over the ridges of Cassidy’s hips.</p><p>Cassidy’s hat sailed across the room as they broke apart, and he threw his suspenders from his shoulders, panting, wild with lust. His hands moved to the bowtie next, but Eccarius stilled them with a touch.</p><p>“Let me,” he said, his voice husky and low. He gave a gentle tug at the bowtie and it came loose all at once, sliding free of Cassidy’s collar with a silky whisper and joining his hat on the floor. One of Eccarius’ pale hands came to rest against Cassidy’s prominent bulge and Cassidy’s hips bucked, a soft whine escaping him as Eccarius teased him with one hand while deftly unbuttoning his shirt with the other. I found my hand had strayed between my legs, teasing and toying with myself as I watched them together. Cass shrugged his shirt off eagerly as soon as the last button popped free, and pressed his desperate lips to Eccarius’ again. His fingers flew to the neckcloth that covered Eccarius from throat to sternum and began urgently seeking for the knot that would release it, a task made all the more difficult by Eccarius’ fingers teasing his cock through the thin barrier of his pants.  </p><p>“<em>How in th’ bloody hell</em>—” He frowned severely as he worried the knot, though the effect was lessened by his gasping breaths and bucking hips. Eccarius sat up in a smooth, easy motion, one hand pressed to the small of Cassidy’s back to keep him from overbalancing.</p><p>“Allow me,” he said, and removed the neckcloth with practiced ease without taking his eyes from Cassidy’s face. Cassidy reached to shove his overcoat from his shoulders, but Eccarius caught his hands again, pressing gentle kisses to his knuckles. “Gently,” he warned. When Cassidy’s hands were once again too eager he chuckled and gently shooed Cass off his lap, easing the blow with tender kisses. He stood and began to undress, quickly but meticulously, carefully hanging each article of clothing as he stripped them from his body.</p><p>Cass happily wrapped his arms around me, kissed me, his lips needy, panting hot breath into my mouth. His hand replaced mine between my legs, over my panties, and he groaned at the warm wetness there, his cock throbbing. I palmed him lightly, teasing him as he teased me, and he moaned.</p><p>“Are yeh…is this…okay?” he asked between pants. I gave him a tender squeeze and leaned in to nip his neck, humming with pleasure when his cock jumped in response.</p><p>“This is—” I cut myself off with a strangled gasp as his fingers slipped inside my panties to stroke my clit. “This is amazing.” I kissed him again, his lips impossibly soft and warm, and then Eccarius was back, his skin like pale untouched marble against Cassidy’s tattoos and my scars and faded bruises. His hair created a living curtain as he dipped his face to kiss first Cassidy, and then me.  </p><p>“What would you two enjoy?” He continued to alternate kisses, slowly, but everywhere he could reach—nose, forehead, neck, collarbone, jawline, his hair painting broad strokes across our skin as he moved.</p><p>I’d never seen Cassidy at a loss for words before, but he was now, with Eccarius’ lips tracing the runes on his chest and my fingertips grazing his rock-hard cock. His mouth gaped wordlessly, producing only gasps and soft needy moans.</p><p>“Maybe I could just watch? To start, at least,” I supplied shyly.</p><p>“Would you like that, my dear?” Eccarius asked Cassidy, who nodded enthusiastically. Eccarius kissed his shoulders, over the E and the Q, sucking and nipping, leaving the skin there red and glistening; Cassidy moaned again and bucked against my hand. “And would you prefer to give, or to receive?”</p><p>“Re—r-recei-ah, <em>fuck</em>,” he gasped as I palmed his head, rubbing in slow circles. I couldn’t take my eyes from him as he threw his head back, the cords of his neck straining, his face flushed, his hands fisting the sheets desperately.</p><p>“Understood,” Eccarius said with a smirk. He kissed a path down Cassidy’s chest, his stomach, pausing to lap at the smooth ridges of his hips. I pulled my hand away from his cock and shed my dress and my soaked panties, tossing them to the small heap of clothes in the corner. My middle finger traced slow circles over my clit as I watched Eccarius slowly ease down Cassidy’s pants and allow his cock to spring free. “<em>Oh</em>, my dear. Beautiful,” Eccarius said, eyeing Cass’ cock hungrily. He licked the single drop of precum from its tip and it throbbed mightily as Cass gasped his need.</p><p>Eccarius produced a bottle of lube and pumped his hand over his own eager cock to slick it, his eyes slipping closed in pleasure, a fine line of tension appearing as one eyebrow furrowed. A predatory smile crossed his face when his eyes found Cassidy’s again. “How shall I take you?” he growled, and a pleasurable shiver shot down my spine.</p><p>“<em>Christ</em>, I don’ care, jes’ take me,” Cass gasped. His eyes were wide as he stared up at Eccarius, statuesque and luminously pale in the low light.</p><p>Eccarius grasped Cassidy’s long legs at the crook of his knee and gave a tug that appeared to take no effort at all but brought Cassidy’s hips flush with the edge of the mattress. Cass braced his feet against Eccarius’ chest, his knees bent, lifting his ass just a little. Eccarius grasped his cock in one hand and ran the tip along Cassidy’s opening, drawing a long whine from Cass. I moaned softly in response, rocking against my hand as I watched.</p><p>“Are you ready for me?” Eccarius’ voice was a low purr, and he continued to draw slow, lazy circles against Cassidy’s asshole with the tip of his cock.</p><p>Cass nodded eagerly, his wide eyes glued to Eccarius’ face. “Yes. Jaysis, yes.<em> Please</em>.” I drank in the sight of him, naked and writhing and wild with lust. Eccarius eased into him then, slowly, his full length disappearing inside Cass as Cass groaned his satisfaction, his knuckles white as he clenched his fists in the satiny sheets. I dipped my fingers into my slick cunt, watching Eccarius thirstily, timing my thrusts with his.</p><p>Eccarius’ eyes were screwed shut with pleasure; his wide hands wrapped tight around Cassidy’s thighs, pulling Cass to meet each thrust, a soft grunt escaped him each time he buried himself in Cassidy’s ass. I fucked myself to the rhythm of those grunts, to the music of Cassidy’s soft, joyful cries and gasps, and in minutes my own hand was fisting the sheets, my hips arching against my hand as warm pleasure radiated from my core to the tips of my fingers.</p><p>I peered over at Cassidy as the last waves of my orgasm faded away. His cock twitched deliciously with each of Eccarius’ thrusts, and his hands were scrambling for purchase against the bed as he tried to fuck himself harder. I crawled to him and he turned his head to face me, smiling dreamily, his pupils blown huge with lust. I tangled the fingers of one hand in his sweaty hair and captured his trembling, panting lips with mine. He tried to speak as we parted, but the words he tried to form were lost as the pleasure of another thrust washed over him.</p><p>I kissed my way down his neck, over his flushed red chest, his flexing, spasming stomach, along the hipbones that held both Eccarius and I in thrall, and took his heavy, pulsing cock in my mouth. His hand scrabbled at the back of my head roughly, fisting at my hair, and I hummed lustily against his length. I slid my eyes sideways to watch Eccarius, matching each of his thrusts with a bob of my head, and I could feel Cass growing, impossibly, harder against my tongue.</p><p>“Ah, <em>fuck</em> Jaysis, you—” His voice broke off into breathy whimpering gasps and I smiled as well as I could with my lips wrapped around his cock, pacing Eccarius as he increased his tempo.</p><p>Cassidy groaned, long and loud, almost a growl, as he came. Hot cum spilled from his twitching cock into my mouth and I swallowed greedily, luxuriating in the taste of him. Eccarius came with a wordless shout only a moment later, his hands clenching around Cassidy’s thighs, his face screwed up in ecstasy. I stilled my mouth over Cassidy’s cock, swallowing down the last of his cum and then gently licking him clean as he shivered in the aftermath of his climax.</p><p>Eccarius kissed the inside of Cassidy’s knee tenderly and slowly pulled out, disappearing to the bathroom, leaving deep red handprints behind on Cassidy’s thighs. I crawled up the bed to rest my head on the pillows and watched Cass—he was spreadeagled on the bed, his eyes closed, the flush in his cheeks and chest gradually fading away.</p><p>“C’mere,” I murmured, opening my arms to him, and he smiled without opening his eyes.</p><p>“Hones’ly, <em>mo grá</em>, I dunno if I can,” he breathed, but then he dragged himself to me and I spooned him, brushing kisses along the nape of his neck. “Tha’ was…” He trailed off, apparently at a loss for words even still.</p><p>I hummed in amusement. “Yes, it was.” I nipped his shoulder blade and he released an undignified squeak. Eccarius swept back into the room and his expression warmed as he took in the sight of us enjoying the gift of the canopy bed. After a moment’s hesitation he climbed in behind me, throwing his arm across my body so his hand rested on Cassidy’s hip.</p><p>“That was delightful,” he murmured. The tip of his nose traced the line of my neck rhythmically, lulling me.</p><p>“Mm,” I agreed. The satin sheets were soft against my skin, Cassidy and Eccarius warmed me from either side. I yawned hugely, exhausted by our night on the town and its dazzling finale, and Eccarius chuckled, his breath tickling my neck.</p><p>“Rest well, Pet,” he said, and pressed a kiss to the pulse point in the side of my neck.</p><p>“Good night, E,” I mumbled, and passed his kiss on to Cassidy’s nape. “Good night, Cassidy. I love you.”</p><p>“I love yeh, Juniper. Thank yeh for this,” he said, snuggling back against me. My hand found his in the darkness, and Eccarius’ overlapped it, and we fell asleep with our fingers entwined.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>I pressed closer to Cassidy under the blankets, the chill air of the basement nipping at my back. I frowned, my eyes still closed; someone should have been back there…someone big, and warm. I lifted my head, craning my neck to search for Eccarius.</p><p>He was already up, and impeccably dressed once again He’d chosen a black overcoat today, with shining black thread embroidery that was only visible when the light hit it and finely engraved silver buttons. His shirt was black as well, made of fine gleaming silk with an elaborate ruffle at his neck. His waistcoat provided the only contrast, with glowing white floral embroidery splashed across his chest. He sat in a finely carved wood chair with his legs neatly crossed; the leather of his boots shone darkly in the low light. A low table sat in front of him with an expansive charcuterie board weighing it down, and my stomach growled audibly as I eyed it.</p><p>“Good afternoon, Juniper,” Eccarius purred, a soft smile playing at the corners of his mouth.</p><p>“Good morning, E.” I took my time stretching my body awake, delighting in the softness of the satiny sheets against my skin. “What time is it?”</p><p>“Half past three. Mrs. Rosen is beginning to worry that I’ve done away with you.” His smile widened, flashing his teeth, and I returned it.</p><p>“I didn’t mean to sleep so—” I yawned and scrubbed at my eyes. “So long. Thank you for breakfast.” I slithered to the edge of the bed and propped myself on my elbows, studying the board to choose my first morsel. Finally I plucked a tiny piece of bread from the tray and dipped it in some herbed oil before popping it into my mouth.</p><p>Cassidy began to stir as he noticed my absence, groping blindly over the bed until his hand found my calf. He opened his eyes at last and joined me to sit at the edge of the bed, blinking owlishly. “Murnin’,” he mumbled, wrapping himself in the black duvet. I kissed his knee in greeting and rolled up a slice of prosciutto to nibble at.</p><p>“I trust you slept well, Cassidy?” Eccarius asked with a teasing glint to his eye. I pressed my thighs together, growing wet as the memory of the night before surged to my mind’s eye. Cass grinned crookedly and smeared some dark, thick jam across a cracker before stuffing it in his mouth.</p><p>“Yeh’d be guessin’ right in that, mate,” he said thickly, and Eccarius raised his eyes to the ceiling as if praying for patience. Cassidy didn’t seem to notice, all of his drowsy focus on the task of coating another cracker in jelly.</p><p>“Are there plans for today?” I asked as I continued to pick morsels from the selection before me.</p><p>“Well, no more gifts, as promised.” Eccarius chose a single grape and closed his eyes to savour as he chewed. “But I was thinking perhaps another night on the town, if a bit simpler. Dancing, perhaps?”</p><p>“I feel like…we might have three really different ideas of what that means,” I said with a teasing smile.</p><p>“Lissen—” Cassidy seemed stung by my implication. His voice was still sleepy, but he seemed to be coming to himself. “Some of us have kept up wi’ th’ times, alright? I can soldier boy wi’ th’ best o’ them.” I giggled and kissed his knee again, then turned to Eccarius.</p><p>“Would you <em>enjoy</em> a modern club?” I scanned his face, and he pursed his lips, thinking.</p><p>“I would enjoy you two enjoying a modern club,” he said at last with a slow smile.</p><p>“Okay. That sounds fun, then,” I said, returning his smile. “I do want to clean up first, though.” I paused as an idea bloomed in the back of my mind. “Can I use the tub? Please?” I thrust out my lower lip, and Eccarius laughed.</p><p>“Of course you may. I insist.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed.<br/>The chapter is named after '1, 2, 3 (You, Her, and Me)' by Rick James for uh.....obvious reasons. And yes, that is what was playing in the limo.<br/>Comments are always welcome!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0050"><h2>50. Club Bourbon Heat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A second night out goes unexpectedly awry.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The water thundered as it gushed from the tap into the tub, raising a thick cloud of steam that dampened my brow. The noise nearly covered my laughter as Cassidy poured in salts, bubbles, and oils seemingly at random—though he assured me he had a system. In the end the thick layer of suds nearly hid the bath water, which had turned a deep blue from one of the more vibrantly dyed salts. He eased himself into the water first, hissing against the heat, and beamed up at me once he got settled. I joined him, sitting at the other end of the tub to face him; the near scalding water reddened my skin at once and raised a thin sheen of sweat over any skin that was unsubmerged. The water was the perfect temperature to toe the line between decadent comfort and delicious pain, and I sank into it, closing my eyes.</p><p>“Yeh seem happy here,” Cass murmured. His hand found one of my feet under the suds and rubbed my arch idly.</p><p>I was submerged to my nose and had to lift my chin to speak. “I am. I’m glad you asked to stay.”</p><p>“I bin worryin’…” Cass began, and I opened one eye to see him looking downcast. “I can’t give yeh these nice things like Eccarius can. Yeh deserve a nice life, a proper comfortable one, an’ tha’s not somethin’ I can offer. ‘Fact I’ll probably make yer life downright difficult.” He grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes.</p><p>I sighed softly, and prodded his chest with my big toe. “A life with you <em>is</em> a nice life. And we can always come back to visit when we need some decadence. <em>And</em>--” I paused to poke him again, shooting him a teasing smile when he met my eyes. “--you already make my life difficult.”</p><p>“No arguin’ that, I suppose,” he said, and now his grin seemed genuine. He squeezed his palms together and water sprayed across the tub in a fine arc. Some caught me in the forehead, but most spattered the floor behind me.</p><p>“Bastard,” I accused, and sloshed to his end of the tub to kiss him.</p><p>We lounged and soaked until the suds were nearly gone, and then Cass <em>squelched </em>to the shower to fetch us some proper soap. When he sank back into the tub he began to squirt shampoo into his palm, but I stopped him with another kiss.</p><p>“Let me?” I requested shyly, and he handed me the bottle and ducked to soak his hair. When he came back up he turned his back to me, easing down in the water until his head rested against my belly. I massaged the shampoo in with soft, slow circles, for far longer than necessary, and his body sagged against me as his eyes drifted closed.</p><p>“Yeh spoil me.” His voice was thick and far away. I dipped my soap-slick fingers to his neck and shoulders, stroking the cords of muscle there firmly.</p><p>“No more than you deserve, Cassidy.” I dipped to kiss his forehead before carefully rinsing the shampoo away. “I love you.”</p><p>“I love you too, Juniper.” He smiled moonily and sat up, picking up the shampoo bottle again. “Yer turn.” He washed my hair with as much care and attention as I’d shown him, his deft fingers exacting just the right amount of pressure against my scalp. I forced my eyes to stay open to watch him; a tiny concentration line wrinkled the skin between his brows as he worked, but he smiled when I reached to smooth it.</p><p>At last we both felt clean and refreshed, and wrapped ourselves in Eccarius’ plush towels to rejoin him in the bedroom. His eyes drifted immediately to the golden embroidered <em>E’</em>s that embossed the towels that clothed us and a smugly approving expression crossed his face. He rose with his hands clasped in the way that I was learning indicated meant he had plans for us.</p><p>“Juniper, I know you said no more gifts—” My eyes narrowed, and he raised his hands in supplication. “—<em>so </em>I thought perhaps you could borrow some of my clothes for stepping out this evening.” I glanced at the door to his huge closet, and he nodded encouragingly. I stepped into it and was immediately overwhelmed by the vast selection; Eccarius flitted to my side, seeming to sense my distress.</p><p>“Do you have any…recommendations?” I asked, brushing my fingertips along the sleeves of his overcoats.</p><p>“I do. If it’s what you prefer, I can certainly choose,” he replied, a hint of eagerness in his voice.</p><p>I shrugged, helpless in the face of the multitudinous options in front of me. “You guys did a pretty good job last time. Let’s try that.” He all but disappeared, his body blurring as he lapped the closet, and a silky, luminously white shirt appeared in my arms with a pair of black pants. I laughed, shaking my head as I dressed.</p><p>The silk shirt was oversized, billowing over my body, and the shape of my black bra was visible to the fabric—an effect I quite enjoyed. I frowned, puzzled, when I pulled on the pants. I expected them to be drastically oversized, since Eccarius was broader than Cassidy and only an inch or two shorter. But the fit was near perfect—nicely snug in the waist and only a hair too long.</p><p>“Are these yours?” I asked as I twisted in front of the mirror. Eccarius drifted over and tucked the very hem of the shirt into the waist of the pants, creating a cloud of loose fabric around my middle that drifted and swayed as I moved.</p><p>“Lisa’s,” he explained. “She asked me to ship some of her belongings once she’s settled in Dansk, and offered the loan. These are hers as well,” he added, producing a vibrant scarlet pair of heels.</p><p>“Yeh’ve heard from ‘er, then?” Cassidy asked. He lifted his phone from the dresser and frowned at its screen. “I bin textin’ her, not heard back yet.”</p><p>“Oh, yes. She’s doing quite well. Scouting locations for her chapter,” Eccarius said, supporting my elbow as I slipped on the shoes. A perfect fit, and I admired them happily, twisting my foot this way and that.</p><p>“Will you thank her for me?” I asked when I could tear my eyes away from the gorgeous shoes.</p><p>“Of course,” Eccarius assured me. “Do get dressed, Cassidy, the town awaits.” Cass hesitated a moment more, typing out a quick message and sending it before he ventured into the closet.</p><p>Eccarius and I sat on the bed to watch as Cassidy selected an outfit. He matched the simplicity of my look, with neatly creased, slim cut black pants and a plain black A-shirt under a gold vest with shining golden buttons. To complete the look he chose a long black duster. I whistled appreciatively as he swept it on. It was just a little baggy, tailored to Eccarius’ wider shoulders.</p><p>“Very nice,” I murmured, pressing my hands to his chest as he leaned in for a kiss. “I do miss the suspenders, though. I liked having something to hang onto.”</p><p>He chuckled. “Noted fer next time,” he said. </p><p>“Our ride is here,” Eccarius announced, though I had no idea how he knew. We tromped upstairs and outside. A tiny red sedan was waiting, rust flecking the wheel wells. The driver wore a blue cap that was stretched to accommodate a head of long greying locs and reggae music and the reek of pot drifted from his open window. My feet stuttered to a halt; I was disappointed in spite of myself.</p><p>“You did specifically request…” Eccarius admonished, pausing to smirk back at me.</p><p>“…Okay, <em>yes</em>, but this is just petty,” I said, laughing as I joined them in the back of the Uber.</p><p>“Where to, mon?” the driver shouted without lowering the music.</p><p>“Club Bourbon Heat,” Cass said without hesitation, and we were off.  </p><p>It was still early, but Bourbon Street already throbbed with life, and the driver had to take special care to watch for revelers who sometimes wandered or danced into the street. The line to enter our club stretched around the block, and the driver brought us to its end. I drooped at the idea of waiting for hours in the excessive heels Lisa had loaned me.</p><p>“May I?” Eccarius asked, looking over my head to Cassidy. Cassidy pursed his lips, considering.</p><p>“Oh, alright. Won’t hurt anyone, I s’pose. But don’ make a habit of it,” he added, waggling a finger at Eccarius.</p><p>“Take us to the door, please,” Eccarius requested, and the driver swung around the block to bring us closer to the door. We unloaded, and there was a sudden vice grip on my arm as Cass dragged me away from the Uber, stumbling in my heels.</p><p>“Don’ turn t’ look. That was th’ Grail gobshite.” My head began to turn in spite of his warning, and he shook me. “Don’t!” Eccarius pressed close behind me, his hands in his pockets and shoulders squared to widen his silhouette. Protecting me, I realized, and felt warm all over.</p><p>“The one from the swamp?” I murmured, and Cass nodded. “What do we do?” We’d reached the door, and I could feel thumping bass in my chest and the hostile eyes of Grail agents against my back. Eccarius slipped around me to smile politely at the bouncer, who glared. Cassidy stepped casually behind me to take his place, wrapping his arms around my middle and rocking gently as he brushed kisses over my cheek—to anyone but me he would appear as a horny, overly handsy boyfriend rather than a willing shield against the vast arsenal of the Grail agent. I leaned into him and squeezed his hand tightly, feeling impossibly safe and loved despite the bloodthirsty assassin at our back.</p><p>“<em>You would like to let us in</em>,” Eccarius was murmuring to the bouncer soothingly, leaning close. Wordlessly the bouncer stepped aside and unclipped the velvet rope to usher us past, unmoved by the grumbled protests behind us.</p><p>I breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed between us and the Grail agent, and Cassidy led us to a booth in the corner. He hustled me in first, placing me against the wall and positioning himself so that he was between me and the door. “I don’ <em>t’ink</em> they’ll come in here,” he murmured, without taking his eyes from the entrance. “Las’ time they waited ‘til we were away from other people.”</p><p>Eccarius stayed standing, pacing short lines along the end of the table, crackling with angry energy. “I should go back out there and <em>tear him limb from limb</em>,” he growled, and goosebumps flooded over my skin.</p><p>“No, no.” Cassidy waved him down, and at last he sat, though coiled and ready to spring up again. “We c’n use him. Catch him, use him t’ send a message to his boss t’ leave us alone.” He finally took his eyes from the door, turning to lean into the table secretively. “We finish out th’ night as planned, right? Request th’ same Uber driver when we’re ready to go home. Meantime we got th’ Children o’ Blood convenin’ at th’ house ‘n once we’re all out o’ th’ car they surround him ‘n we take him!” His eyes were alight, his face glowing with excitement over his plan. Eccarius began to smile, and at last he nodded.</p><p>I picked at my nails anxiously. “They’re just human though. The Children, I mean. Wouldn’t that be dangerous for them?”</p><p>Cass pursed his lips, thinking. “I’m sure the Grail’d have some kinda code against hurtin’ civilians, wouldn’ they?”</p><p>“I guess…maybe.” Another objection floated to the surface. “And wouldn’t we have to keep him kind of…indefinitely? As collateral or whatever?”</p><p>“Nah, ‘course not! Only until we’ve explained t’ th’ Grail that we’ve nothin’ t’ do with their Messiah anymore,” Cass reassured me. When I still wavered, he pressed on. “Th’ bloke’s seen where we’re stayin’, <em>mo grá</em>. We have t’ do somethin’.” He squeezed my hand.</p><p>I sighed heavily. “Okay. How long do we have to stay before we can call him, without it looking suspicious?”</p><p>“Couple hours? We’ll drink a bit, have a laugh, ‘n be on our way.” He leaned over to kiss my temple and then disappeared, threading through the crowd toward the bar. I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, my mood dampened. Eccarius slid around the table to sit with me.</p><p>He leaned over conspiratorially. “I could still go kill him and be back before Cassidy, if you’d like,” he murmured, and I managed a smile.</p><p>“No, stay please.” I took his hand, anchoring him in place. “Cassidy’s plan is good. I just thought we were done with this shit. Out of it. You know?”</p><p>Eccarius shrugged, looking apologetic. “Such is life for our kind. We have always been hated. Perhaps we always will be.”</p><p>I kissed the back of his hand lightly. “Thank you for doing the work that you do. It can’t be easy.” He lowered his eyes, embarrassed. “Have you ever thought about trying a top-down approach? Instead of grassroots? Like, trying to change public policy first.”</p><p>His mouth worked for a moment, his eyes wide. “I—”</p><p>Cassidy was back with pale blue drinks that had orange slices over the rims of the glasses for Eccarius and me. Another bottle of Bushmills was tucked safely under his arm. “Shove over, yeh lump,” he said to Eccarius, who moved back to the other side of the table with good humor. Cass sat down beside me, flipped the lid off his bottle, and we waited.</p><p>~~~~<br/>The time crawled by. The fear that fully armed Grail agents could burst through the doors and windows at any moment slowly drained away, replaced with creeping boredom. I finished my drink, but refused more, nervous of being too inebriated to be of help when we got home. Cassidy didn’t seem to share my concern, putting away just as much whiskey as he had the night before, and Eccarius followed his example.</p><p>At last Cassidy declared that enough time had passed to summon the Grail agent and his Uber again. He requested the ride, and Eccarius called Mrs. Rosen to have her gather the Children of Blood. We stepped out to the sidewalk to wait, but I couldn’t stay still and paced back and forth, chafing my hands up and down my arms against the chill I couldn’t seem to shake.</p><p>Cass caught me as I passed, pulling me against his chest. He kissed the top of my head lightly and swept his coat off to wrap it around my shoulders—on me the hem dragged against the ground. “Fer this t’ work I need yeh actin’ yerself, alright?” I nodded and forced my stance to loosen into something more natural, pulling the coat closer around me. He kissed me lightly. “Good lass. ‘S only a few minutes, ‘n then we get ‘em off our backs fer good.”</p><p>“Cassidy mon!” I peeked around Cass at the driver and was surprised to find he looked just as innocuous as he had when he’d first picked us up. I took a deep breath and waved.</p><p>“Yeah, tha’s us,” Cassidy said, and we piled into the car. I leaned heavily against Cassidy and hooked one knee over Eccarius’ lap, trying to approximate our casual intimacy from the night before. I was so deeply focused on my guise of fun and carelessness that I lost track of the conversation between them, until a note of tension crept into Cassidy’s body and voice. My muscles went rigid and his hand found mine, squeezing reassuringly. “Yeh sent her to <em>Dansk</em>,” he was saying. Right. Lisa.</p><p>Eccarius laughed, abashed. “Well. Still early there, I’d imagine,” he said, and the moment seemed to pass.</p><p>“Yeh’re a bad man, aren’t yeh?” Cass teased.</p><p>Eccarius drained the bottle of Fireball in his hand. “Well, thanks to you and your…pernicious influences.” He lay his head back against the seat and his hand found my knee, squeezing gently.</p><p>“Yeah, well,” Cassidy said, grinning. “Bot’ of us a couple o’ hard men, now.” He glared as I snorted with laughter. “What?”</p><p>“Can you be a hard man if you’re made of marshmallow fluff inside?” He wrapped his arms around me, yanking me into his lap, and I squeaked.</p><p>“’T ain’t no marshmallow fluff in here, lass,” he growled fiercely, pounding his open palm against his chest. “Nuttin’ in here but bullets, blood, ‘n whiskey!”</p><p>“Peeps and kittens and cotton candy,” I countered, and shrieked when he pulled me closer, flush against his chest, to growl in my ear.</p><p>“Prob’ly a couple o’ kittens, yeah,” he murmured in my ear with a twisted grin, and I shrieked again.</p><p>“<em>Ew</em>, Cassidy!” I cried, laughing, and he let me go as we pulled up to the Rosen house. We spilled out of the car and my amusement gave way to nerves, my hands growing cold as I considered what was coming. Cass threw his arm around my shoulders, his solid grip keeping me from striding too fast to the house. The walk from the car to the from door seemed to take years, but at last we were there.</p><p>The Children of Blood flooded out the door past us; I sneaked a glance and was grateful to see the Grail agent was distracted. I stripped quickly and called up the wolf, my bones began to creak and pop as they rearranged.</p><p>“Woah! Hey, we didn’ talk about this!” Cass hissed; Eccarius turned to watch, fascinated, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips.</p><p>“We didn’t <em>not</em> togg aboud idd,” I argued, and then I lost the ability to speak. Cassidy rolled his eyes and he and Eccarius slipped back out the door. I finished my shift quickly, giving my body a little shake before I trotted after them, my body hugging low to the damp grass.</p><p>The Children of Blood had surrounded the back of the car to prevent—or slow—an escape in reverse. Eccarius was murmuring into the driver’s side window, face to face with the agent.</p><p>“Yeah,” Cass said in response to something I missed. His voice was caustic. “We all <em>really</em> believe in yeh.”</p><p>I leapt onto the hood of the car and glared savagely at the agent through the windshield—a few inches and a flimsy sheet of plexiglass was all that separated us. I bared my fangs, my mouth slightly open to ensure he got a look at <em>all</em> of them. I snarled; one that originated from deep in my gut and swept through me, echoing and rumbling and growing as it came until I produced a guttural roar that made the Children of Blood shrink back as one. Spit flecked the windshield and it fogged with my hot breath as the snarl faded into a low, continuous growl like the rumble of a diesel engine.</p><p>Eccarius reached through the open car window and dragged the man out, kicking and praying, and I couldn’t help a stab of cruel satisfaction. We had a Grail agent.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! I can't believe we've made it to 50 chapters! Hot diggity darn.<br/>Feedback is always welcome. &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0051"><h2>51. Hoover</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cassidy, Juniper, and Eccarius clash over what to do with their Grail hostage.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eccarius glared down at the cringing Grail agent, fangs bared; he seemed to be wrestling with whether to stick to the plan or to kill the spy on the spot. Then he was gone, nothing more than a blur as he towed the man into the house, and idly I wondered if there would still be a hostage in the house when we caught up. I hopped down from the hood of the car; each of my claws had left a silvery divot in the paint. Cassidy’s hand brushed my head absently as he circled to the driver’s side.</p><p>“That was bloody cool,” he admitted. We remembered presence of the Children of Blood at the same time; they were still shrinking back from me, staring wide-eyed. “’S cool, guys, it’s just Juniper,” Cass said, and I wagged my tail. They appeared unconvinced. “Best jes’ change back,” he muttered, and hopped in the car to move it into the Rosen’s garage as I followed his advice. The evening was chilly without fur or clothes, and I crossed my arms over my chest, blushing under the stares of the Children of Blood.</p><p>“Can I, uh…can I borrow a cloak?” I asked timidly, and was struck by several at once. We trooped inside and down the stairs, where Eccarius had already tied the agent to one of his antique wood chairs. I slipped into Eccarius’ bedroom to dress properly, in familiar soft leggings and a t-shirt rather than Eccarius’ elaborate clothes. When I emerged someone had scrawled signs for the agent to hold and Cassidy was taking pictures, his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth as he concentrated. I leaned against the pool table to watch. <em>Help me! </em>the first read. <em>I’ve been taken! </em>the second. <em>Leave Cassidy and Juniper alone</em>, <em>Or they’ll kill me!</em> And a final: <em>I’m frightened! </em>Cassidy sent the pictures off to the Grail, and we waited.</p><p> “Um, who is this guy again?” Kevin asked finally.</p><p>“Honestly Kev, have yeh not bin payin’ attention? He works for th’ fascists that killed my friend, stabbed Juniper, kidnapped me, ‘n tried t’ kill me an’ Eccarius jus’ the other night!” He turned an acid glare on the agent in the chair. “I ferget anythin’?”</p><p>“W-we also spied on you and destroyed your friendship with the Messiah,” the man offered helpfully, and Cassidy’s glower darkened further. The phone pinged. “What’d he say?” he asked quickly.</p><p>“Says kill ‘im,” Cass said. The phone pinged again. “’N asked who th’ hell is Juniper.”</p><p>I glared, stung. “Tell him I’m the one who crushed one of his soldier’s heads between my teeth!”</p><p>Cass nodded and typed busily. “Crushed…soldier…teeth.” There was a whoosh as he sent it.</p><p>“The thing about killing me, th-that must be an autocorrect thing,” the man said. “Text him again.”</p><p>“’M not a goddamned secretary, you know what I mean?” Cass grumbled as he typed. The phone pinged three more times, and Cass sighed, shooting off another message. One more ping, and Cassidy turned back to the man in the chair. “It wasn’ autocorrect,” he said smugly, and turned back to the Children who crowded around him, rubbing his hands eagerly. “Right, how we gonna do this? We could stab ‘im. Hang th’ bugger. Or a blunt instrument, just <em>bash his brains in</em>.” He emphasized this by slamming one fist into his open palm.</p><p>“The werewolf could eat him,” Kevin suggested, pointing at me.</p><p>“<em>The werewolf</em> has a name!” I snapped. “And I don’t eat <em>people!</em>”</p><p>“I vote stabbing!” our hostage offered.</p><p>“We could use bees,” Kevin offered, and Cass rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Now where in th’ <em>heck</em> are we gonna find bees at this time o’ night? They’re bloody sleepin’, aren’t they!”</p><p>“Explain, <em>why</em> are we thinking of killing this man?” Eccarius asked suddenly.</p><p>Cassidy gaped at him. “Because everyone I ever liked, he ‘n his bloody Grail people‘ve tried t’ kill! They <em>did</em> kill Tulip! Stabbed Juniper, show ‘em!” I reluctantly raised my shirt to display the scar over my ribs, and the Children <em>ooh</em>-ed.  </p><p>“Yes, I remember,” Eccarius soothed. “I’m merely suggesting there may be a better way to make use of him. A better way of…feeding our cause.” His lips twitched at the double entendre.</p><p>“You can’t be serious,” Cassidy said, disgusted.</p><p>“Indeed I am!” Eccarius replied, placing his hands on the hostage’s shoulder.</p><p>“E, he has tried to <em>kill us</em>. Multiple times! He was gonna burn you up with a mega-flashlight like five minutes ago!” I protested.</p><p>“Even the hardest of hearts can be turned to our to the light,” Eccarius insisted. “Or rather, the darkness,” he corrected with a smile. “He deserves a choice—the choice that all we here have made! Death, or everlasting life?”</p><p>“Life! Life, please. I pick that,” the hostage blurted.</p><p>“Splendid!” Eccarius clasped his hands together, his expression joyous. He leaned close to the hostage’s ear. “Pray tell, what is your name?” he murmured.</p><p>“Hoover. FJ Hoover,” Hoover replied quickly.</p><p>Eccarius spread his hands and turned a slow circle—for one stomach-churning moment I was back in the Tombs, part of Jesse’s demented circus act. “Hoover has chosen to join us!” He freed Hoover from the chair with a flourish, and Hoover scurried away from Cassidy’s furious glare. The cheering from the Children of Blood was somewhat reduced from their normal enthusiasm, their envy palpable. One of them retrieved a large blanket; I blushed as I recognized the red and black patterns that Cassidy and I had lain naked under in front of the fire the night I’d arrived. They spread the blanket over the pool table, and candles appeared from every nook as if by magic.</p><p>Eccarius leaned in toward Cassidy as the Children of Blood prepared for their ceremony. “I trust you would prefer to do the honors?” he asked Cassidy.</p><p>Cassidy’s nose wrinkled, and I felt a swell of relief. “Not really. This is yer party, not mine.”</p><p>“Ah, but each Child you turn brings you closer to the power of flight…of transmutation…” Eccarius tempted, and Cassidy wavered, his eyes flicking to Eccarius’ face and away, and then back again.</p><p>“<em>Fine</em>,” he said finally. “But I don’ like it. It’s a bad idea, mate.”</p><p>“Your concerns have been noted,” Eccarius said with a smile, and pecked him on the cheek before leaving us to join the Children in their preparations. Cass leaned against the wall heavily, his hands shoved in his pockets, and I joined him, leaning into him.</p><p>“Are you okay with this?” I asked softly. I slipped my hand into his pocket to entwine my fingers with his, and he flashed a forced smile.</p><p>“I dunno. Too late t’ go back now, I suppose,” he said, his eyes on the pool table slash ceremonial altar. “Are yeh gonna be okay seein’ it?” Now his eyes turned to me, worried and searching.</p><p>“I think so. I’m sure I’ve seen you do worse.” I stretched on my toes to kiss him. “And you can always back out if you feel it’s wrong. Eccarius has teeth, he can do it himself if he wants.”</p><p>Cassidy considered this, the skin between his eyebrows wrinkling as he thought. “Nah, I c’n do it. He’s bin gettin’ real smug-like about bein’ the only one of the two of us who c’n fly ‘n whatnot.” Hoover was being helped up onto the altar, and Cassidy heaved a sigh as he strode over to join the crowd, standing opposite Eccarius. The Children of Blood crowded in close, and I perched on the steps to watch from above.</p><p>Cass sighed again, glaring down at Hoover. “Alright. Do yeh trust me?” he asked resentfully.</p><p>“I do,” Hoover lied.</p><p>“Do yeh choose this freely?” Cassidy’s scowl deepened.</p><p>“I do,” Hoover lied again.</p><p>Cass rolled his eyes before spitting out the next line. “Will yeh fersake th’ sunlit world ‘n surrender to our dark ‘n scarlet urging?”</p><p>This gave Hoover pause. “Like…no sun at all? No sunset strolls? No beaches?” My heart panged at the idea, of never feeling the sun kiss my skin again.</p><p>“Well. There’s umbrellers, but that’s all th’ time. Everywhere yeh go. I mean, yeh’ll be havin’ bloody dreams about umbrellers, yeh c’n trust me on that.” When Hoover continued to waffle, Cassidy growled. “Or we could just bloody kill yeh. I mean, I’m sure there’s a lot o’ people’d prefer that.” His eyes found me on the stairs, and I wobbled my hand in the air, drawing a smile.</p><p>“No. I don’t wanna die…my mom’d be upset,” Hoover was saying, and I cleared my throat to cover a laugh.</p><p>“Yeh sure?” Cass checked again.</p><p>“Yeah,” Hoover said, not sounding sure at all. “Let’s do it.” I leaned forward to get a better look as Cassidy tilted Hoover’s head to one side roughly, pulling the collar of his hoodie out of the way. Hoover cringed, groaning fearfully, and Cass rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Chill out. Jaysis,” he snapped, and Hoover quieted. Cassidy’s lips peeled back, exposing his fangs, and his jaw jittered for a moment, his teeth clacking together, audible over the muted whispers of the Children of Blood. I heard a low growl as he bit Hoover, who arched on the pool table. It was over in moments—Eccarius stepped forward to touch Cassidy’s shoulder and he pulled back, panting, a thin ribbon of blood dripping from one corner of his mouth. I realized my hands were clenched around the stair rail, my knuckles white with strain, and forced myself to let go.</p><p>Hoover sat up almost immediately, the transformation instantaneous. He smiled brightly, exposing long, shining fangs, and growled playfully as the Children of Blood cheered. Cassidy brought me a beer, and I clinked it against his fifth of whiskey. He sank to sit on the step beneath me and we sipped together as we watched as Hoover lapping up the congratulations and attention from his new friends.</p><p>“He seems happy,” I said mildly, trying to dismiss the envy that twisted through my stomach.</p><p>“Yeah, well. ‘S all fun ‘n games th’ firs’ few years. Then yer friends start dyin’, people start askin’ how yeh stay so young, vampire hunters start showin’ up…takes th’ shine off real fast,” Cass said, and I took his hand.</p><p>“I’m glad you didn’t kill him, I think,” I murmured, and Cass kissed my temple.</p><p>One of the Children edged closer nervously, a tall woman whose long box braids were piled on top of her head; she was taller even than Cassidy. Her eyes were boldly lined, the edges swept out from her lids in a way that brought to mind ancient Egyptian royalty. She would have been intimidating if not for the shyly admiring expression on her face; she was picking at her dark nail polish the same way I did when I was nervous, and her dark eyes were glued to her feet. I leaned back to nurse my beer, watching her approach with cool amusement.</p><p>“Excuse me,” she said softly, and it wasn’t until Cass nudged me with his elbow that I realized she was addressing both of us. “I always thought that vampires and…and werewolves…” She glanced at me shyly, and I nodded encouragingly. “Well, I thought you were natural enemies?”</p><p>“No, no-no, tha’s all myth—” Cassidy began, but I cut him off.</p><p>“I mean, I definitely wanted to murder him at first. But I don’t know if that’s a werewolf thing or a ‘him being a pain in my ass’ thing.” I turned to eye Cass speculatively. “Bit of both, maybe. But we’re over it,” I added, and leaned in to kiss him. “<em>And</em> my brother is dating a half-vampire, and they’re doing great. So I’m pretty sure that’s nonsense, except when the vampire steals your loft and insults your decorating skills and kidnaps your phone.” Cassidy snorted, unaffected by my playful glare, and stole another kiss.</p><p>The girl seemed emboldened by my candidness, and hurried on. “Can you change into a wolf any time you want? Are there rules? Is wolfsbane really a thing? And silver bullets? ”</p><p>“Yes, kind of, yes but humans shouldn’t eat wolfsbane either, and any bullet will work if you’re a good enough shot,” I rattled off. I found myself smiling down at her, tickled at being the center of attention for the first time since we’d arrived. She glanced over her shoulder, and I noticed a gaggle of the Children were watching our interaction, fascinated. “Do you…do your friends have other questions?” I asked hesitantly, and she nodded rapidly. I laughed and stood to join her, but Cass caught my wrist and drew me back in for a kiss.</p><p>“Don’ go ruinin’ all my mystery ‘n enigma, now,” he cautioned, but he was grinning.</p><p>I kissed him again. “Oh, I’m <em>totally</em> gonna ruin it,” I teased, and danced out of reach before he could stop me. I joined the curious Children in the den area, perching on the back of the couch while they scattered around me on the seats and floor. “Ask away,” I said, leaning forward.</p><p>“Did the alpha of your pack trade you to Cassidy in exchange for an end to Cassidy hunting your people for bloodsport?” Kevin asked. I blinked, and it took me several seconds to formulate an answer.</p><p>“…Okay first of all alpha theory isn’t even <em>a thing</em>, it’s been scientifically disproven. Also, no. My parents didn’t meet Cassidy until they had to save me from an illegal underground fighting ring where supernatural beings are forced to fight to the death,” I explained, and couldn’t help a grin as their eyes grew round.</p><p>“How did you meet Mr. Cassidy?” asked a girl in the front. Her chin was propped on her hands, her smile dreamy as she imagined it. I glanced up at him, our eyes meeting across the basement, and he squinted at me, playfully suspicious. He had leaned back and propped his elbows a few steps above his hips, and had stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankle—at full length he took up nearly half the staircase. The whiskey bottle dangled carelessly between his fingertips, what was left of the amber liquid inside glowed golden in the low light. He took a long gulp as I watched, his bobbing throat drawing my eye down to the smooth line of his neck, over the collarbones left exposed by the silky gold vest he still wore.</p><p>I realized the Children were still staring, eagerly awaiting my answer, and blushed. “…Short version or long version?”</p><p>“Long version,” they chorused, and I launched into it.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>A familiar, thunderous scream and a shattering crash interrupted my retelling just as I reached the fight with Fiore and LeBlanc, and I glanced up to see Cassidy struggling mightily to stagger to his feet, his legs as unsteady as a newborn foal’s. I sighed softly. “To be continued, sorry…” I slipped through my audience to join Cassidy and Eccarius at the bottom of the stairs. “What did you <em>do</em>?” I asked Cass, who was rubbing his arm gingerly.</p><p>“Fell,” he muttered grumpily.</p><p>“He was trying to fly,” Eccarius said, his eyes full of laughter.</p><p>“Well I don’ unnerstand it! Tha’s three people I’ve turned now, total, ‘n I still can’t do th’ things you can do!” He looked genuinely put out, and I covered my mouth to hide my smile.</p><p>“You’ve turned three. I’ve turned <em>hundreds</em>. And you flew a bit after Lisa!” Eccarius soothed.</p><p>Cass would not be mollified. “Oh, bullshit, y’were helpin’ me out!” He sighed heavily. “What’re yeh not teachin’ me?”</p><p>Eccarius kissed him, smiling indulgently. “Patience, obviously.” He swept away to congratulate Hoover again, and I wrapped my arms around Cassidy’s waist, resting my chin on his chest.</p><p>“Are you alright?” I asked, and he sighed.</p><p>“Jes’ bruised,” he grumbled, and I pulled him to me for a kiss.</p><p>“I know you want this, but…” I pursed my lips, collecting my words. “I love you, Cassidy. Just as you are. I don’t want you to hurt yourself trying to be something else. Okay?”</p><p>He brushed a kiss across my forehead, though he still seemed grumpy. “Thank yeh, <em>mo grá</em>. I love you too.” He sighed as he surveyed the wreckage of the lamp. “I’d best clean that up. Go have fun wi’ yer friends.” He glanced at the group still waiting for me to finish my tale, but I hopped up onto the washer. “They can wait,” I said, and leaned back to watch the celebration as he swept.</p><p>It was only a few minutes later that Eccarius returned, with Hoover at his side.</p><p>Cassidy raised an eyebrow, surprised. “You’re sendin’ him off already?”</p><p>Eccarius threw an arm over Hoover’s shoulders, beaming at him. “There’s no rest for the weary or the wicked, and Mr. Hoover is <em>ready.</em>” He turned to face the Children of Blood, raising his voice to a boom. “Alright, you lot! He’s off!” They raised the now-familiar chant of <em>fly!</em>, and I couldn’t repress a smile. Eccarius mounted the stairs, but Cassidy stepped in front of Hoover to stop him.</p><p>“Alright. Now. We’re givin’ you a second chance here,” he said, and paused. The silence was thick with poignance, pregnant with all the wisdom a century-old being had collected as he walked the earth alone. “Don’ be a dick.” He grabbed a rainbow umbrella hat from a hook next to the washer and handed it to Hoover. “Here. First o’ many.” Hoover took it with a wondering expression on his face, and then smiled.</p><p>“You’re a good guy,” he said haltingly, and then glanced at me. “Thanks for not eating me.” I gave him a sarcastic, two-fingered salute and we watched his back as he followed Eccarius up the stairs and out the door. </p><p>“Do you think he’ll actually…not be a dick?” I asked after he’d gone.</p><p>Cass shrugged as he fought the last few shards of glass into a dustpan and then dumped them in a bag. “Dunno. S’pose if he is then next time we’ll jes’ kill him right off,” he said. He sounded as if he looked forward to the idea; savage eagerness brightened his eyes.</p><p>“It’s a date,” I agreed. He tied off the garbage bag and turned to ascend the steps. “Hey!” He turned back to me, confusion knitted across his face. “I love you,” I said, smiling up at him. His face split into a grin and he returned to me, pulling me to the front of the washer to kiss me deeply.</p><p>“I love yeh, Juniper. I’ll be back in a momen’.” He pecked the tip of my nose and tromped away up the stairs, umbrella in hand.</p><p>I returned to the den and picked up the threads of my story, relishing in the retelling of Cass and I fighting the angels in that time before; before I knew I loved him, or even liked him. Before he loved me back. The idea of disliking him felt impossibly foreign now, trying to imagine it was like trying to imagine living on Neptune.</p><p>I was describing the terrible, gory mess after Cassidy had finished chopping up the bodies when Eccarius rushed back down the stairs. Gradually his appearance stilled all conversation around us, when finally I looked up and my jaw fell open; I sprang to my feet, my mouth falling open in an <em>O</em> of horror.</p><p>Eccarius was back, and he carried Cassidy’s limp body in his arms.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! If you have something to say, I'd love to hear it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0052"><h2>52. Changing Times</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eccarius' true nature comes to light.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What happened?” I rushed to meet Eccarius as he carried Cassidy’s unmoving form through the bedroom door. Eccarius carefully laid Cass down on our bed, and when he was still I could see his chest’s steady rising and falling as he breathed. I sagged with relief and stroked his hair lightly, though he didn’t react to my touch.</p><p>“Hoover attacked him,” Eccarius rumbled, more growl than speech, and hot anger swelled in my chest. “His allegiance still lies with the Grail, it seems.” He paced back and forth, the low growl unending in his chest; the room seemed saturated with his rage the way the air thickens before a storm. “I will hunt him to the ends of the Earth,” he ground out; his voice was like two great boulders rubbing together. “There will be nowhere he cannot hide. I need only wait for nightfall, and he will be mine.” He glanced at me, seeming to remember suddenly that I was there. “Will you track him? Find him for me, and when night comes we’ll finish him together.”</p><p>The thought was tempting; I imagined myself finding Hoover cringing in the shadows, tearing at him, taunting him, drawing out his suffering and fear until I finally dragged him into the sun to burn. But I blinked the image away, turning my eyes to Cassidy’s face.</p><p>“I will once Cass wakes up. The trail will still be fresh enough.” I climbed over Cassidy’s still form to sit in the center of the bed, taking one of his limp hands between my own.</p><p>A flash of anger crossed Eccarius’ face before it smoothed back into a mask of calm persuasion. “Do you not want revenge? Our lover has been laid low by an enemy, and you would let that enemy walk free?”</p><p>“I didn’t say that,” I snapped, irritated. “I just don’t want him to wake up alone. <em>As soon</em> as he’s awake I’ll go, I promise.” I settled more deeply on the bed, holding Eccarius’ eyes, my chin stubbornly lifted. His face twisted for a moment, his eyes cold obsidian chips, his teeth exposed in a hideous grimace. This time I could see the effort it took to regain that expression of poised calm, and unease sent a shiver down my back.</p><p>“You will fetch me at once when he wakes,” he ordered; his nostrils were flared, his lips pressed into a thin line, and his cloak snapped the air as he spun to leave the room. The elegant French doors slammed behind him, the glass rattling in the panes, and I heard a faint click in the stillness that followed his passing. My skin puckered into gooseflesh and I held Cassidy’s hand tightly between both of mine, pressing his knuckles to my lips, watching the Children through the glass panes of the door as I waited for him to wake.</p><p>A harsh gasp made me jump, and Cassidy was gone from my side, stumbling unsteadily away from the bed, his eyes wild and panicked, searching. “<em>Juniper!</em>” He spotted me, bewildered and staring, and grabbed my arms in a clammy, chilled grasp, hauling me to my feet. “We need t’ go, we need t’ go <em>right now!</em>”</p><p>I pressed my hands to his cheeks, flushed with hectic color, shushing him. “It’s alright. Now that you’re awake I’m going to go track Hoover down, and we’ll take care of him tonight. Everything’s fine.”</p><p>His brow furrowed, uncomprehending, and he grabbed my wrists to still my hands. “Hoover…? No, Juniper, it’s Eccarius! He’s no good, he’s—” His eyes slid over my shoulder and he thrust me behind him roughly, growling low in his throat as Eccarius entered the room. Eccarius’ expression was cool as he stared at us, his head tilted slightly to one side.</p><p>“Ah. You’re awake. We have much to talk about, I think.” A smile played at the edges of his mouth. He didn’t move from the doorway, his broad shoulders all but filling it.</p><p>“We have <em>nothin’</em> t’ talk about. We’re leavin’,” Cass growled. His hand still circled my wrist, tight enough to bruise.</p><p>“What’s going on?!” I tried to peer around Cassidy at Eccarius, but he held me firmly behind his back.</p><p>“What’s goin’ on is that he’s a bloody murderer, is what he is! He’s bin killin’ them, all of ‘em, that’s how he’s got his bloody powers!”</p><p>My head swam as the blood rushed from my face, and I swayed on my feet at the thought of it. Fifty years, he’d said. Hundreds of chapters…My stomach roiled as I comprehended the scope of the brutality.</p><p>“Now, if you would just calm yourself and <em>listen</em>…” He stepped toward us and the snarl in Cassidy’s chest grew, echoing through him like thunder; Eccarius stopped, holding his hands up, all supplication and innocence. “They were dead long before they met me…Lost, given up. They want something <em>more.</em>” Cassidy scoffed, shaking his head as Eccarius hurried on. “I show them the <em>promise</em> of the vampire life! The thrill of it, the decadence! And they never learn of the torment of our existence.” I shivered, my gorge rising as he spoke; I hadn’t wanted to believe he was capable, but now he freely admitted it. I stood poised to run but he still blocked the door.</p><p>“Yeh’re a bloody mental case, is what you are,” Cass snapped. “I think you actually <em>believe</em> this bollocks.”</p><p>“Listen to me—” Eccarius took another step, and Cassidy took one back, his iron grip still holding me firm behind him, his growl rising in his throat again.</p><p>“We’ve <em>been</em> listenin’! <em>I kill people to set them free.</em>” His voice dripped with contempt. “That’s <em>insane</em>, man! An’ on top o’ that, it’s a bloody lie! You’ve bin killin’ all these people fer all these years because <em>you like it! </em>‘Cause it gives yeh power an’ it feels good. Admit it!”</p><p>“Alright.” His shoulders sagged; his face grew downcast as he acknowledged the fact of it, and I swayed with relief. Cass had gotten through to him—he would stop, he would let us go, it would be okay. “But Cassidy, you have to try it!” My heart sank again as his teeth glinted in an eager smile. “The rush, it’s like nothing else! We can do it together, the three of us, we can change Juniper and then we three never have to part!” He leaned around Cass, catching my eye. “Don’t you want this? To be with Cassidy, forever?” Cassidy snarled and jerked me out of Eccarius sight again.</p><p>“They’re not <em>drugs</em>, you arsehole! They’re people! All the hundreds you killed were <em>people! </em>Lisa…Jesus Christ, do yeh remember Lisa?!” His shoulders fell, and his voice was wracked with guilt as he shouted. “<em>She trusted me!</em>”</p><p>“<em>They’re losers!</em>” Eccarius snapped finally. “Desperate posers. Just like you said.” His voice lowered to a deep purr, and his face grew cold as he spoke. “And if they want to be like us and play with death? Fine. Let’s play.” A cruel smile twisted his lips.</p><p>“We’re goin’ out there,” Cassidy said; he pulled me around Eccarius, toward the door. “We’re gonna tell ‘em what yeh bin doin’, an’ then we’re leavin’.”</p><p>In a blink Eccarius was blocking our path; the speed of his passage made the candles flicker. “You know I can’t let you do that,” he said softly. His face was almost apologetic. Cassidy’s hand tightened around my wrist for a moment, his shoulders rose and then fell as he sighed deeply.</p><p>His fist was a blur as it struck Eccarius’ jaw. He grabbed the finely embroidered waistcoat in both hands, grunting as he heaved Eccarius away from the door, shoving him toward the huge canopy bed. “Juniper, <em>run!</em>” he ordered, but I couldn’t move. I watched in horror as Eccarius took the upper hand; his movements became invisibly fast, Cassidy’s strikes meeting nothing but empty air. He hit Cassidy once, twice, leaving him staggering and senseless, a thin trickle of blood dripping from his nose, and then tossed him across the room as easily as lobbing balled paper into the trash. The bed canopy groaned as Cass struck one of the thick posts and fell to the ground, leaving the metal bent in the shape of his shoulders. He groaned and struggled to rise. His eyes caught mine again, wide with pain and horror. “<em>GO!</em>” he roared, and I flew out the door, past the confused faces of the Children of Blood, clambering up the stairs, tripping and stumbling in my haste. I rushed down the hall, Mrs. Rosen calling a cheerful greeting behind me, and scrabbled at the door’s lock with numb fingers.</p><p>Too slowly. Eccarius appeared as though by magic between the door and me; I staggered backward and fell, sprawled on the hardwood of the hallway. He smiled as he stared down at me, his eyes locked on mine.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>I drowsed on the couch by the fire, basking in the dry heat that washed over me, lulled by the low buzz of conversation from the other Children, trying to forget the events of the day. My head tilted reflexively toward the bedchamber door as I heard it creak open, though I shuddered at the thought of what was emerging from the depths of that room. <em>His </em>voice cut through the air, stilling conversation, and cold sweat broke out over my forehead.</p><p>“Guys! <em>Guys! </em>We all gotta get outta here <em>right now</em> before he gets back, he’s a bleedin’ maniac, he—” The voice cut off suddenly, and when it came again he sounded confused. “Juniper?” I ducked my head, my stomach churning with nausea as my name passed his lips. “I toldjeh t’ go!” I swallowed hard and made myself face him, lifting my chin to meet his eyes, though my palms went slick with sweat and my mouth dried as Cassidy approached. He stumbled to a stop, frowning severely as he took me in. “Why’re yeh lookin’ at me like that?” Disbelief filled me, followed by hot anger.</p><p>“How can you ask me that?” My voice was quiet, choked with disbelief. “After everything you’ve done!”</p><p>He blinked, his liar’s eyes huge with phony surprise. “What’re yeh talkin’ about? Juniper, we gotta <em>leave!</em>”</p><p>“You killed Hoover. You killed <em>Lisa!</em> And then you attacked Eccarius, after everything he did for us!” My fists clenched of their own accord, my nails biting deeply into my palms.</p><p>His wide mouth worked silently for a moment before he answered, like a frog that’s caught a fly too large for it to swallow. “Tha’s…tha’s not true! Juniper, what’re yeh sayin?! <em>He </em>killed them! Eccarius!” He turned to face my Brothers and Sisters. “An’ he’ll kill you too!”</p><p>I flashed to my feet, my outrage overcoming my fear. “You lie! You’re the murderer, not Eccarius!” He drew back, his lips pressing into a thin line as he understood. He couldn’t hide what he was anymore.</p><p>“He’s hypnotized yeh, Juniper,” he murmured. The liar. He’d turn me against my own Master if I let him. He reached for me, but I swatted his hand away, scrambling backwards over the couch to put it between us. Cassidy moved to follow me, but then my Lord was there, wrapping a strong, protective arm around my shoulders. With him at my side I didn’t have to be brave, and I trembled as I pressed my face against his broad chest.</p><p>“There, my Pet. It’s alright. He can’t hurt you any more.” Eccarius murmured in my ear, stroking my hair. I nodded, but couldn’t make myself look at the traitor Cassidy.</p><p>“You promised,” the beast was saying, quiet rage in his voice. “You promised! Never her, you said!” I cringed against Eccarius as Cassidy’s voice rose. Even in the protective ring of my Lord’s arm I couldn’t help shuddering at the monster’s close proximity.</p><p>“Ah. Well. Changing times,” Eccarius replied. He flitted us to the center of the room and stood facing my Siblings, his back to Cassidy—unafraid of the dangerous, prowling predator among us. My heart swelled with admiration, even as I felt the murderer’s eyes against my back. “My Children,” Eccarius said, “I stand accused of a terrible crime—the murder of our own.” My heart ached at the injustice of it. “It’s his word against mine, my children, and who will you believe? This man?” He jabbed a finger at Cassidy, who glared at us sullenly, his face twisted in rage at finally being held accountable for his crimes. “This bitter, destructive, lost soul, who tried to murder the very woman he professes to love!” He squeezed me close, brushing my hair away from my face as he stared lovingly into my eyes. I shuddered as the memory flashed into mind unbidden; Cassidy lunging from the shadows, eyes wild with bloodlust, fingers hooked into grasping claws, his mouth opened impossibly wide into a gaping dark chasm.</p><p>“I didn’! Juniper, I’d <em>never</em>—”</p><p>My Lord cut him off. “Or me. Your Lord, who loves you, who has always and will always love you.” His voice was buttery warm, a stark contrast to the gruff, grating tones of the interloper.</p><p>“<em>Love</em> yeh! Yeh’re his fix!” Cassidy snarled.</p><p>“Says the <em>junkie</em>, who hates all of you nearly as much as he hates himself,” Eccarius taunted, and I smiled to see the monster put in his place. “What <em>was </em>it that Cassidy called us when he arrived?” Eccarius circled slowly, keeping me pressed to his side, eyeing each of my Brothers and Sisters in turn.</p><p>“Idiots,” Kevin offered, and a low grumble swept through us. “Stupid posers.”</p><p>Eccarius climbed the steps to his throne, guiding me to stand at his right hand, pressing a kiss to the inside of my wrist as he eyed Cassidy. The killer’s throat worked and his eyes shifted from side to side, his fangs bared in an ugly sneer. He brought to mind a trapped rat desperate for escape.</p><p>“An example <em>must</em> be made,” Eccarius said. One of my Brothers lunged at Cassidy, only to be brutally repulsed, thrown against a wall. His crumpled form lay still where he fell.</p><p>“<em>None o’ yous touch me!</em>” the villain snarled. He sank into a low crouch, a wild animal that would savage you if you strayed too close. “Jus’ let us go!”</p><p>A soft, vindicated smile crossed my Master’s face. “There you are, my children. The <em>true</em> maniac among us.” Cassidy let out a growl that chilled my blood, though I knew it would be nothing to my Master to crush him. “An example <em>must be made</em>,” Eccarius murmured.</p><p>The speed of his movement created a tugging breeze, and the killer was trapped in my Master’s iron grasp. “<em>Tie him</em>,” Eccarius hissed, and my Siblings found a length of rope. Cassidy kicked mightily, flailing, cursing and shouting as he was restrained.</p><p>“<em>Juniper! Juniper you can’t let ‘em do this! He’s hypnotizin’ yeh Juniper, yeh have t’ FIGHT IT!</em>” I turned my face away, tears streaming down my cheeks, trying to block out his desperate lies. My Master lifted him high and brought him crashing down on our ceremonial altar, stunning him, finally silencing him.</p><p>“Fetch stakes and a hammer,” Eccarius ordered, and my Sibling scurried to obey. They held the monster’s arms as our Master placed the tip of one shining metal stake against the murderer’s hand. He lifted the hammer, then paused, turning to me. “He has hurt you above us all, Juniper. Taken you in with his lies, stolen your heart and your beauty, left you ruined and broken.” He held out the stake, it glittered in his hand. “You deserve some small measure of justice.”</p><p>I hesitated, my breath short in my chest, touching a fingertip to the scars that marred my face. At last I stumbled down the steps to my Lord, and held out my hands for the stake. He dropped it into my palms and they dipped as I caught it—the weight surprised me. The villain was moaning, low and wordless. I glanced at his face, against my better instinct, and for a moment his eyes caught mine—pools of green like seagrass, flecked with gold and glistening.</p><p>“Juniper, <em>please</em>. Please fight it. Yeh’re stronger’n he is. I know you are.” His voice was scarcely more than a whisper, and I found myself wavering in spite of all he’d done.</p><p>Gently and lovingly, my Master turned my face, bringing my eyes to meet his. “Don’t look him in the eye, my Pet. It’s how he ensnared you—the power of compulsion.” Of course. I remembered as he spoke, the way I’d been helplessly enthralled by the monster for so long, powerless as he led me to hurt after hurt.</p><p>“<em>Fuck you</em>, yeh great bloody cunt. I’ll kill yeh,” Cassidy snarled. I gritted my teeth and placed the tip of the stake against his palm, and when his eyes turned to me, he speake quickly. “I love yeh, Juniper. I forgive yeh. It’s alright. I love yeh.” He shut his eyes tight as I lifted the hammer. “I’m sorry I brought yeh here, I’m sorry we didn’—”</p><p>I brought the hammer down, and he screamed.  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope this chapter hurt y'all to read as much as it hurt me to write it! But a good pain.<br/>Thank you for reading as always, and comments and feedback are so appreciated!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0053"><h2>53. Pet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Eccarius tightens his hold on Juniper's mind.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Children of Blood gave a mighty heave and the ceremonial altar tipped upright; Cassidy screamed and wriggled like a pinned insect. The pool balls scattered over the floor, rolling to every corner of the room. The murderer groaned and glared, a sheen of clammy sweat across his forehead, his lips peeled back from his teeth. A caged monster, terrifying to see but at last a threat to no one.</p><p>“It pains us to do this,” my Master said. “But there is no worse offense than to betray your own kind.” Cassidy hissed, low and guttural, and a disgusted murmur swept through us as we glared up at him. “It’s time,” Eccarius said, turning. “Kevin, the drapes!”</p><p>My Brother swept back the long, billowing curtains and a ray of bright sunlight lanced in, pooling on the floor. “That’s embarrassing,” Cassidy scoffed, and his arrogance filled me with white-hot rage.</p><p>“Should we…move him into the sun…?” Kevin asked, but my Master shook his head.</p><p>“No. We’ll let the sun come to him.” A smile spread across my face. As always, my Master was the most cunning, the most brilliant in the room. “It will give me time to collect something.” He allowed his fingertips to drift into the harsh sunlight, his lips tightening as his hand burst into yellow, flickering flame. I lurched forward, aching to protect him, but he held up a hand to stop me. “And give Cassidy more time to reflect.” He pulled away from the sun, flicking his fingers to put out the fire.</p><p> “I’ll make a lasagna,” Mrs. Rosen offered, and my Brothers and Sisters followed her up the stairs. I observed Cassidy once more as I waited for my Master, careful to avoid his bewitching eyes; a rabid dog finally muzzled.</p><p>“Juniper, <em>yeh know me</em>. Yeh know I didn’ do what he says!” His expression was pleading. Blood oozed from his palms, trickling down the lengths of his arms. I took a step toward him before I remembered my Master’s warning. I clenched my fists and turned away, eager to get away from him before he could compel me again. “<em>Juniper!</em>” I cringed from his voice, pressing my hands to my ears.</p><p>“Come here, my Pet,” my Lord purred, extending a hand. “It’s quite safe, I promise you.” It filled me with fear to move closer to the monster, even trapped as he was, but I trusted my Master implicitly. He took my hand and brought me to rest in front of him, his chest pressed to my back.</p><p>“Don’ you fuckin’ touch her,” Cassidy growled, glaring, and my Master chuckled.</p><p>“Oh, but she wants me to. Isn’t that right, Pet?” He traced his long, elegant fingers down my neck to my pulse point, and I gasped, craning my head to offer him my neck, to offer him everything. Cassidy snarled and strained against the stakes that pinned him helplessly in place, but in my elation at my Master’s touch, my fear of him faded away to nothing. “If you don’t join me, I will kill her, you know. Slowly.” He ducked his head and I felt twin pinpricks against the side of my neck, and my eyes fluttered closed as I pressed into them. Cassidy was roaring wordlessly, his teeth flashing, the altar rocking as he thrashed, every inch the monstrous beast we knew him to be—I would have run, were it not for the protection of my Master. “I may even string her up as I did you. It would be a slower death for her, of course.” His breath was hot against my skin as he chuckled. “But I have time.” He pressed a soft kiss to my neck, and I sighed happily. “Would you like that, Pet?”</p><p>“If it pleases you,” I replied dreamily. I thrilled at the idea of being slain by him; would relish the privilege of having him drive the stakes through my unworthy hands. Cassidy roared again, his feet drumming against the felt of the altar as he raged.</p><p>My Lord laughed again and stood straight. “Think about it, Cassidy. Come, Pet.” We mounted the stairs together, leaving the butcher alone in the dark.</p><p>Our Master left us then, without speaking, away to some errand beyond our lowly understanding, and my Siblings surrounded me in the kitchen, murmuring comfort and reassurance. I reveled in their kindness and love, wondering at the strength of the community my Master had created. Mrs. Rosen kept up a steady stream of chatter as she prepared her lasagna—assuring me that she knew from the start that Cassidy was a bad man, you could see it in his eyes, in his weaselly face and the way he dressed, the ugly ink that marred his skin. She disappeared downstairs after the lasagna went in the oven, and I felt a cold stab of fear at the idea of her alone in the basement with Cassidy.</p><p>“Will she be safe down there?” I asked, scrubbing my moist palms against my pants. I couldn’t help watching the door, my ears tuned for a sign of trouble.</p><p>“She’ll be fine,” Kevin assured me. “Besides, someone has to clean up down there; our Master demands a tidy dwelling place.” I pursed my lips and nodded, but my leg jumped and jittered as I waited for her to return. At last her slow steps ascended the steps again, and I was able to release a breath I hadn’t known I was holding. She pulled the finished lasagna from the oven and served us, but I could only poke at it—my stomach was too uneasy to consider eating with my Master gone and a vicious killer in the basement, even if he was chained. Once everyone had a plate she picked up the phone, pulled an ancient, battered address book from one of the drawers, and left us in silence.</p><p>It was nearly an hour before she rejoined us, and her face was pale and drawn. “He was right.” Our faces lifted, slow, uncomprehending. “Mr. Cassidy. About the Flown Children.” Her eyes wandered down to the address book in her hand. “None of them answered. He’s…he’s killed them.”</p><p>My chair clattered to the ground behind me as I surged to my feet. “You <em>lie!</em>” My fists were balled at my sides, full of shock and righteous anger. “How dare you speak this way of our Lord!”</p><p>Mrs. Rosen blinked, and held up the battered notebook. “I called <em>all</em> of them, dear. Eighty-seven children. And no answers.”</p><p>“He would <em>never!</em> Cassidy is the killer, not him!” I lunged for her with fingers that were shortening as they sprouted dark claws, but my arms were caught, pinned by my traitorous Brothers. I screamed, kicking wildly until my legs were trapped too, and then I flailed my head back and forth, teeth gnashing, desperate to free myself, clear my Master’s name, kill the treasonous and the ungrateful betrayers. They carried me away up the stairs, shrieking my rage, their clinging hands too many and too strong even when the wolf was freed from my human body and my screams shifted to ear-splitting howls that made them cringe against the onslaught of noise.</p><p>They threw me into a bathroom and slammed the door as my claws scrabbled for purchase on the slick linoleum. I threw myself at it, again and again, slavering and roaring, but the house was old, the doors made of solid wood, and I bounced back harmlessly. I shifted back and shook the knob, again screaming my rage when it wouldn’t turn. I battered my shoulder against it, kicked it, screamed at it, beat it with my fists, to no avail. I paused to scan the room—the window was too high and too small to be an option, and so I renewed my furious assault on the door, beating it until I bled and then beating it some more, all the more enraged for my utter helplessness while the disloyal were free.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>I felt it when he went. My attack on the door first slowed, and then stopped. I blinked wonderingly at my raw, split and bleeding knuckles, and then at the blood spatters that had painted the white-stained oak dark red. I wanted to get to Eccarius—<em>needed</em> to get to him, desperately—but I couldn’t remember why. He was in danger, horrible danger, staked to the pool table—no. Someone else…The pictures in my head wouldn’t solidify; they slipped from my grasp, shifting and rearranging, pulling themselves into new shapes like an oil slick over dark water.</p><p>Finally they settled with a thump, a sensation like the world flipping upside-down, or from upside-down to right-side up, without ever moving. My memories clicked into place one after the other like laying down pieces of train track. The events of the day were laid out in front of me as if I were living them over again, and my knees buckled, my hands rising to my face in horror at what Eccarius had done.</p><p>At what <em>I </em>had done.</p><p>I renewed my assault on the door, frantic, pounding my open palms against it, screaming though my voice was hoarse and my throat raw. “<em>Cassidy! Cass! I’m sorry! Please, Cassidy, I’M SORRY, PLEASE!” </em>I tried to figure how much time had passed as I cried out for him, whether the sun had reached him, whether my apologies were too late and his last memory of me would be of me torturing him. My cries cut off, my sobs leaving me too breathless to continue, though I still battered the door with red and aching hands.</p><p>And then the door flew open and he was there, so suddenly that one of my flying hands smacked against his chest, miraculously whole but for the blood spattered across his golden vest and the wounds that still marred his beautiful hands. Even more miraculous, he seemed glad to see me, a slow, astonished smile spreading across his face as he took me in. I ached to reach out to him but clasped my hands together to still them; a subconscious gesture of supplication. I lowered my eyes—I didn’t want to see the moment he remembered my betrayal.</p><p>“I’m sorry. I didn’t…I didn’t mean to.” My voice was hoarse and weak, my apology worthless in the face of what I had done. “He did something to me, he mixed everything up, I’m sorry…” The tears were coming again, and the choking sobs stole my words away.</p><p>A gentle finger lifted my chin. I tried to resist looking in his face, afraid of what I would find there, but at last I dragged my eyes to his. They were gentle and kind as they always were, though they shone wet. “I know, <em>mo grá</em>. It’s not yer fault.”</p><p>I wrapped my arms around him then, so hard he grunted with the force of it, and cried against his chest. Deep shudders rocked me as I relived the sensation of the tent stake crunching through his hand again and again, and he stroked my hair and rubbed my back, though it must have caused him pain, murmuring sweet, comforting words in my ear and rocking me gently. “We need to get you fixed up,” I finally said when I could speak again.</p><p>“Ah, this is nothin’. Don’ you worry about me. Are <em>you</em> alright?” He held my shoulders and stooped to get a better look at my face. His concern for me brought my guilt flooding back to the surface, and I began to cry again. “Go easy there, yeh’re gonna dehydrate at this rate,” he joked feebly, and I managed a watery smile.</p><p>“I just—” My voice broke, and I took a deep, steadying breath. “I can’t believe he got so far in my head. And made me do those…those things.” I had to stop, as more sobs shook me when I glanced at his hands again. “I’m <em>so</em> sorry, Proinsias, I’ll never stop being sorry, I’m sor—” He cut me off with a kiss, crushing his lips to mine, and I slowly, hesitantly brought my hands to cradle his cheeks, afraid to believe he could forgive me so easily. When we parted he spoke with his face only inches from mine, his eyes pinning me in place.</p><p>“Lissen. I tolja down there I forgave yeh, an’ I meant it. We bot’ know it wasn’ you back there, that yeh’d never do somethin’ like that in a thousand years. Don’t worry yer head about it a minute more, alright?” He used the pad of his thumb to brush away the last of my tears, and I nodded hesitantly.</p><p>“I’ll try.” I took a deep breath, and strived to release the events of the day as I let it go. “But I want you to heal. Please.”</p><p>“Right. There’s blood in th’ freezer. Come on.” He offered his hand, and I took it gently, careful to avoid the gaping hole at its center that still oozed blood. He chuckled darkly as he held our entwined hands up to the light—his, with his new stigmata, mine with the knuckles swollen, bruised purple and bleeding. “Now if someone had t’ sum us up in one picture, there’d be th’ one,” he said, and had to support me down the steps as I was overtaken by a frenetic giggle fit, half laughter and half sobs.</p><p>The kitchen was empty when we got downstairs, and I felt suddenly uneasy. Cass didn’t seem bothered; he plucked a baggie from the freezer and dumped it into a pan on low heat as I took a seat at the table. “Where is everyone? What…actually happened, in the end?” And then, my stomach sinking, “Did I hurt anyone?”</p><p>“No, yeh didn’ hurt anyone, although I t’ink some o’ them were a little disappointed they didn’ get nipped, yeh know what I mean?” He grinned over his shoulder at me, and I glared, but my lips twitched in a tiny smile. “Everyone is downstairs, at th’ moment.” He paused his stirring. “What’s th’ las’ thing that happened b’fore yeh got locked up?”</p><p>I stared down at the table, picking at the wood grain. “Mrs. Rosen called the…the flown children. And said none of them answered, and you were right about Eccarius, and I…got upset.” My cheeks heated, and I hunched my shoulders. Cassidy poured the thawed blood into a tall glass and joined me, taking my hand gently.</p><p>“It <em>wasn’ yer fault</em>,” he reminded me. I nodded and took his hand in both of mine. I spread it on the table, watching in fascination as the hole there filled in and covered over with flawless new skin. “Mrs. Rosen came back down an’ I turned her. She turned th’others, bless her. When Eccarius came back I made out like I wanted t’ join ‘im, an’ got him t’ drink some…Well, got ‘im drunk. ‘N we killed him.”</p><p>I pressed his palm to my cheek, kissing his wrist gently. “I’m sorry, Cass. I really thought he was--” I floundered for a moment. “—good, you know? I liked him.”</p><p>He stroked my cheekbone with his thumb. “Yeah. Me too.” He sighed and stood. “I need t’ get outta these poncy clothes.” I followed him down the stairs to where the Children of Blood were milling around, seeming aimless without their leader, their chins bearded with dark, clotting blood. The pool table still stood on end in the corner, Eccarius’ ashes creating a grisly grey silhouette. One of the Children hissed at the sight of me, and I flinched. “Hey, now, we talked about this!” Cass said sternly. “She wasn’ herself, and you all know it.”</p><p>There were no more protests, but even so I kept my head down and quickened my step as we crossed to the bedroom. Cassidy stripped off the vest and slacks quickly, and seemed to relish in heaping them on the floor and stepping all over them. He dug through his pillow case and I grinned when he came out with a Nixon campaign shirt, a too-short pair of khakis, and scuffed red trainers. The outfit was deeply, undeniably <em>Cassidy</em>, and at the sight of it something that had been tightly wound in my chest finally loosened, just a bit, and it felt like we could begin to be us again. He flushed when he’d dressed and caught me staring.</p><p>“Now lissen, I know they’re not so spiffy as what Eccarius had me wearin’--” he began, but I pressed my fingers to his lips to shush him, and then kissed him lightly.</p><p>“You look like <em>you</em>, though. It’s an improvement,” I said. He beamed down at me, and I wrapped my arms around his waist, my ear to his chest to feel its rise and fall. “Can we get outta here? Please?”</p><p>“’Course,” he murmured, and kissed the top of my head. We stuffed our belongings into our pillowcases, and slung them over our shoulders. The Children were still loitering in the basement when we emerged.</p><p>“What do we…do now?” Kevin asked, and the others all turned to Cass for guidance. He glanced at me, looking panic-stricken.</p><p>“Well…stay outta th’ sun, mos’ly. An’ don’ kill people, alright? ‘S not worth th’ trouble.” He began to stride toward the steps again, but his phone rang and he paused to answer it. “Tulip?” I tilted my head, and he shot me a smile. “Ye—yes—slow down! No, we’re alright. Had a bit o’ trouble fer a minute but ‘s all over wit’ now. Okay. O—o<em>kay</em>. Alright. We’ll see yeh soon.” He rattled off the address and hung up, smiling. “She’s on her way here. Was worried we’d gotten into trouble—<em>us!</em> Imagine.” His eyes sparkled with mischief, and I stretched on my toes to kiss him, grinning.</p><p>The basement door thumped closed, and a cheer went up from the Children of Blood. Cass and I parted to see Hoover on the landing—looking ridiculous in thick black lipstick, but alive. He was wearing a triumphant smile as he bounced down the stairs to meet us.</p><p>“…I thought you were dead!” I blurted, shifting my gaze between him and Cassidy.</p><p>“No, your man here got me out alive,” he said, clapping Cass on the shoulder. “Gave me a second chance, a new lease on life. I really owe you one,” he said to Cassidy, and Cass smiled bashfully. “<em>So</em>,” Hoover went on, “I got you a present.” He held out a huge black umbrella—I’d never seen an umbrella I could describe as imposing, but somehow this one was.</p><p>Cassidy took it, turning it in his hands, his smile growing thoughtful. “Aw, thank you, mate. Very droll, very <em>secret agent man</em>.” He waggled his eyebrows playfully, but Hoover’s answering smile was forced.</p><p>“Open it,” he said, and Cass blinked.</p><p>“Indoors? I’m pretty sure tha’s bad luck, mate,” he replied. I glanced up at the ceiling; the deep concussive thump of helicopter blades filled the air. It sounded close, low over the house. Too low. I turned my eyes back to Hoover, my lips peeling back from my teeth. Cass clutched the umbrella closer as the roar of the helicopter grew louder. “<em>What th’ hell is that?!</em>” he hollered over the noise.</p><p>And then the world exploded.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate everyone who's gotten this far.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0054"><h2>54. Reunited and it Feels So Bad</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cassidy is taken by the Grail. Juniper needs Tulip and Jesse to get him back.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey y'all! I wanted to keep posting on odd days so there is a new chapter from yesterday ('Pet') in addition to this one! I don't want anyone to miss chapters.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The floor shook under my feet, the loose old tile bouncing and cracking; the weapons that hung on the wall fell from their mounts with a wild clanging and the lamps followed with a crash of shattering glass. There was a great, guttural, tearing roar as the foundation cracked, the wall splitting in two around the whole perimeter of the basement, and <em>EARTHQUAKE</em> overtook my thoughts, a blaring alarm in my head; I saw it all happen in my mind’s eye, the ceiling would begin to fall in on us, in small pieces at first and then in great masses of inescapable, burying rubble.</p><p>Light spilled in, glaringly bright, and the thumping of the helicopter’s blades pounded against my eardrums. I shielded my eyes, uncomprehending as the house above us lifted up and away. Then the screams began; the light grew blinding and I was surrounded by racing, flailing, pleading columns of flame. Belatedly, far too late, I remembered Cassidy, and horror flashed through me as I turned to him, only to find empty space where he had been a moment before. I scanned the room, terrified, trying to pick out which of the screaming, pain-stricken infernos might be him.</p><p>There was a deep, sharp pain in my calf and I glanced down; I swayed with the relief of seeing the two massive black umbrellas, open and shielding the huddled bodies beneath them. Hoover’s arm snaked back under his umbrella, so quickly that his skin barely had time to sizzle. I wobbled again, pitching sharply as the strength bled from my leg, and as I folded to the ground I saw it: a syringe, the plunger fully expressed, the needle buried deep in the muscle below my knee.</p><p>The Children were collapsing around me, overcome by fire--only a few still had the strength to try to flee the flames. I wanted to curl in on myself, to cringe from their panicked thrashing, but could only summon a feeble twitch. No matter how harshly I demanded movement, raged for it, pleaded for my muscles to respond, there was nothing. My breath came in short, shallow pants, my lungs refusing to expand properly, and panic surged through me as grey spots began to float across my field of view.</p><p>At last it was quiet, the Children all lay still, the last of the flames flickering away to ash. The roar of the helicopter faded away, and the Rosen house soared away out of my periphery. Cassidy peeked out from under his umbrella, his eyes huge, his face horror-struck. He gazed at the carnage, the smoking piles of ash that only moments ago had been people. Then his eyes drifted to me.</p><p>“Juniper?” He crawled to my side, brushed my hair away from my forehead, pressed two fingers under my jaw to find my racing pulse. I couldn’t respond; it was taking all of my strength to get enough air into my failing lungs. “Jaysis, what…<em>Jaysis</em>.” He stood again, only his shoes and the hem of his khakis, several inches above, were still visible to me. His growl cut the air. “You. You traitorous, lyin’ bastard, I’ll—” There was a low <em>thwip!</em>, and he scoffed. “Yeh know I eat horse tranquilizers fer breakfast, dontcha, huh?”</p><p>“I know. I told them.” Hoover. “That’s whale.” Cassidy crashed back into my sight, already unconscious, and I seethed against my useless body. “<em>They’re down!</em>” Hoover shouted.</p><p>“Yes, I can see that Hoover, <em>thank you</em>.” The speaker didn’t attempt to hide his disdain. “Fetch the vampire, Flufferman.” His voice was distinguished, with a hint of a European accent, and incredibly bored. </p><p>“And the she-wolf, sir?” Jenny. I struggled against my invisible bonds and my betraying body. I would tear her head from her shoulders; I wouldn’t even need to shift to do it, the last thing she’d see was my smiling face as I popped her skull from her spine as easily as popping a dandelion head from its stem. My fingers twitched weakly against the ash-covered floor.</p><p>“A werewolf in transit on the full moon? Leave it, it’s worse than useless.”  </p><p>“Yes, sir.” I heard her a moment later, her bootheels clunking heavily down what was left of the stairs, and then she appeared in my sightline. Her boots were gleaming white, as were her slacks, despite the grey, choking ash that still floated on the air. One of the boots drew back, and I couldn’t even flinch as she drove it into my ribs, sending me rolling.</p><p>The pain was immense, radiating all through my body, and what little breath I’d had was knocked from my lungs; the grey spots in my vision intensified to all-encompassing fuzz like TV static for a long, terrifying moment before they faded away again. I’d ended on my back, the bright midday sun blazing down on my face, and out of the corner of my eye I could see the man who had spoken. He was tall, and very bald (<em>a head like an oiled egg</em>, Cass had said once, a million years ago), and dressed all in white but his tie, which was blood red.</p><p>There was a soft, dragging hiss as Jenny—Flufferman, I corrected myself—began dragging Cassidy away. And worse, horrifying in my helpless state, a soft sizzle and a whiff of smoke.</p><p>“We need him <em>alive</em>, Flufferman,” the man snapped, his tone riddle with contempt. “Use the <em>umbrella</em>.” I heard it flap open, and the sizzling ceased. And then I could only listen, powerless as they went. Cassidy’s body bumped up the steps, and the man with the red tie disappeared from my sight. An odd concussive thumping filled the air, slow at first and then rapidly escalating. It wasn’t until the noise increased to a continuous roar that I recognized the sound as a helicopter taking off, and I raged again at my incapacity.</p><p>Tears streamed into my ears as the noise of the helicopter faded, growing softer and softer until at last I could no longer pick it out from the city soundscape. Despair crushed me, and once more I <em>demanded</em> that my body respond. My lips twitched, not into an effortful grimace but into a sneer—still, it was a success, and I pushed for more.</p><p>The effort was too much. The grey TV static overtook my vision again, but this time it didn’t recede. It darkened, the patch of fuzzy grey shrinking and falling away until at last there was only black.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>Pain exploded across the side of my face, sending my head snapping sideways. “<em>What the fuck!</em>” I blinked hard and stretched my aching jaw. I was pleasantly surprised to find that my breathing had eased, and my face at least was under my control again. Tulip was crouched over me, her eyes huge, her hand raised to slap me again.</p><p>“Jesus Juniper, I thought you were dead!” She scowled down at me, but her eyes were flooded with relief.</p><p>“You thought you were dead so you <em>slapped me?</em>” I glared up at her, and tried to shove her off. My hands raised from the ash-gritted floor, but nothing more, and I growled in frustration. She sat back on her heels to survey the ruined basement around us.</p><p>“Worked, didn’t it? What the hell happened here? Where’s Cass?”</p><p>Panic flooded through me, and my fists clenched convulsively. “They were here. They took him, I couldn’t do anything and they took him. The Grail. Jenny.”</p><p>Tulip straightened and kicked a charred skull furiously; it shattered against the remains of the fireplace. “God<em>damnit!</em>” She turned to glare down at me again. “What are you waitin’ for? Let’s go get him.”</p><p>I glared. “I <em>can’t</em>. They injected me with something. I can’t <em>move</em>.” I tried again as I spoke—I could flex my wrists, and my ankles, but everything above that was useless, dead weight.</p><p>She sighed, propping her hands on her hips, and then her mouth set with stubborn determination. “Well, alright.” She stooped and dragged one of my useless arms around her shoulders, grunting as she stood straight again. My toes scrabbled against the floor as I tried to help, but my legs were stubbornly, humiliatingly useless. Her nostrils flared and her jaw clenched as she dragged me up the stairs, fine beads of sweat popping out along her brow. I felt her legs begin to shake halfway up, but she only frowned more deeply and bulled onward.</p><p>At last she dumped me unceremoniously in the back of the Chevelle; my head clunked painfully against the driver’s side door. She slid in behind the wheel and flipped her sunglasses down over her eyes, and we were off.</p><p>“Where are we going?” I asked, trying to make sense of the bright blue sky and street signs that flashed by above my head. She glanced at me in the rear-view mirror, uncharacteristically hesitant.</p><p>“We’re goin’ to get Jesse,” she muttered, and I blinked.</p><p>“…<em>What.</em>” My voice was quiet, but molten rage was flowing up from my stomach to my throat.</p><p>“I <em>said</em>, we’re goin’ to get—”</p><p>“I heard what you said!” I snarled. My hands slapped a pathetic tattoo against the seat as I tried to rise. “Why the <em>fuck</em> are we doing that! Do you know what he did?! To me?! To Cass?!” I flailed my head from side to side, furious at my impotence.</p><p>She glared at me in the mirror, her eyes flashing over the rims of her sunglasses. “<em>Yes</em>, he did! He told me he had a plan, and you ruined it bein’ stubborn and stupid! That’s what he told me!”</p><p>“Well he didn’t tell me about a <em>plan</em>! Unless his plan was to shoot me up with fucking meth and have me fight his pal until I died, that plan was going <em>just fucking swell!</em>” She jabbed her stereo’s power button and Dragonforce’s shredding guitar filled the car, thrashing against my eardrums and drowning me out. “After all the shit he’s done, you’re gonna <em>go back for him?!</em>” Her only response was to dial the music up louder. “We should just leave him there with his crazy witch <em>Granma!</em>” At last I gave up arguing, answering her deafening music with childish wordless screeching, kicking at the interior of her precious Chevelle with all my inadequate strength.</p><p>I kept it up until I saw the wide column of black smoke rising from where Angelville had been, and when I was shocked into silence Tulip turned down the music, leaving my ears ringing.</p><p>“You gonna quit now?” she asked, and I nodded sullenly. She pulled to the end of the long, tree-lined drive and he was there, smoking a cigarette as he waited. He was ominous in his trademark black outfit, with his white collar dazzling against his throat and dark sunglasses masking his eyes. A bruise purpled one of his cheekbones, and I was savagely glad. My eyes followed him as he circled to the trunk, and I felt as well as heard the impact when he tossed his bag in.</p><p>For all my bravado and rage at the thought of him, I cringed when he slid into the passenger seat. He leaned to kiss Tulip and rested his forehead against hers, and the jeers of the audience in the Tombs filled my ears. He shut his door, and the dull clunk was the thump of Jody’s chainlock beating the air from my lungs. He twisted to look at me and I was exposed, as naked and bare as when he and TC had ripped the clothes from my body.</p><p>“Hey,” he said with a rakish smile, but to my mind it was twisted into the cold, sharp, predatory sneer he’d worn in the Tombs. I wanted to throw myself from the speeding car and never stop running, but the strength was only just returning to my arms; the best I could do was hide my face. “You good?”</p><p>“The Grail got her with some nerve agent bullshit,” Tulip explained, and I couldn’t help the disbelieving scoff that passed my lips.</p><p>“Yeah, <em>that’s </em>my problem right now.” It was easier to be brave when I wasn’t looking into his face, but my voice still shook.</p><p>“I uh, guess I owe you an apology for…back there,” Jesse mumbled, and I lowered my hands to glare at him. “But I <em>tried </em>to tell you to go, you didn’t listen! Cass woulda been fine, he’s fuckin’ immortal! I don’t know why you didn’t just trust me!”</p><p>“I think you’re confused about what an apology is,” I said acidly.</p><p>“I don’t know what you’re all bent outta shape about anyway, I made sure you escaped, didn’t I? Even after one of your friends tried to eat me alive!”</p><p>“You <em>fucking shot me!</em>” I touched my ear, healed but still missing a smooth semi-circular notch where the bullet had nicked me.</p><p>Tulip scoffed, grinning out the window. “Dramatic,” she muttered, and I smacked the back of her seat.</p><p>He scoffed, unaffected. “If I wanted to shoot you properly I woulda done it. <em>I</em> made sure TC and Jody couldn’t get out the door after you.” My mind flickered back to the memory of him, standing in the center of the doorway with the gun raised, his stance too broad for any other bodies to slip by, and I hummed begrudging acknowledgment. “I <em>needed </em>them to trust me. It was the only way to get my soul back. I was workin’ out a plan to get you outta there when Cass came back.”</p><p>I glared at him furiously, and he held my eyes steadily until I calmed. “What was your <em>plan </em>if I hadn’t show up for Cass?” I asked reluctantly, needing him to prove he’d wanted Cassidy out of there. I grabbed the seatbelt and hauled myself upright—my body was finally approaching functional.</p><p>“I was gonna toss him in a bag, sneak him to the post office, box him up, and ship him to Dennis’ apartment! Easy! Simple! No one gets mauled!” He spoke as if I were an idiot for not thinking of it myself.</p><p>“…In a <em>bag?</em>” My voice was incredulous.</p><p>“Well…I woulda had to take him apart to fit. But he <em>heals! </em>I was gonna send blood bags with him,” Jesse added quickly. He turned to smile at me, his expression proud and placating.</p><p>I threw myself against the back of his seat, striking any part of him I could reach, tearing at his clothes and clawing at his skin as he thrashed and shrank away from me. The Chevelle swerved wildly across the highway. “TAKE HIM <em>APART! I’LL TAKE YOU APART! </em>HE’S A <em>PERSON! </em>HE’S SUPPOSED TO BE YOUR <em>FRIEND! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!</em>”</p><p>“<strong><em>Stop!</em></strong>” My hands snapped to my lap, stilled against my will, and I glared, panting. “He <em>is</em> my friend, he’s my <em>best </em>friend! Why else would I be in a car with your crazy ass? We’re flyin’ out tonight, Jesus Christ.” He craned to glare at me, blood trickling from three parallel scratches in the side of his neck.</p><p>“We can’t go tonight,” I grumbled sullenly. “Full moon.”</p><p>“Are you serious?” Tulip asked incredulously. She stared at me in the mirror, her eyebrows raised. “We’re goin’ after these fascist assholes to save <em>your</em> boyfriend!”</p><p>“It’s not exactly something I have a choice about,” I growled, crossing my arms. “We need to stay somewhere I can be locked in.”</p><p>Jesse chuckled, smirking as he glanced out the window. “We know someone with cages.”</p><p>~~~~</p><p>The drive was long, but made shorter by the truly bizarre stories we had to swap. Tulip ate up the first two hours, describing to us in precise detail her trip to Osaka to steal souls with Jody and Flufferman, and about being abducted by the Angel of Death, who was, according to her, kinda hot. Jesse was shocked to hear she’d met Eugene, and we both stumbled over the third passenger on the bus.</p><p>“Hitler. Like, <em>the</em> Hitler?” Jesse confirmed, holding his index finger to his upper lip and stretching his left arm in a Nazi salute.</p><p>“Yes like <em>the Hitler</em>,” Tulip echoed, aggravated. “Bunch of his Nazi friends stormed the bus and then God saved me and sent me back again.”</p><p>“God came to <em>you? Again?</em>” Jesse’s shock was insulting, and I kicked the back of his seat.</p><p>“<em>Yes, again!</em>” Her eyes found mine in the mirror. “He’s the one who said you and Cass were in trouble. What the hell happened to you guys, anyway?”</p><p>I plucked at a loose thread in the seat as I gave them an extremely abridged account of Eccarius and the Children of Blood. When I looked up again, Tulip was beaming at me in the mirror. My brow furrowed as I searched back through the story, trying to figure out which detail had her looking so pleased. “…What?” I finally asked when her grin didn’t fade.</p><p>“He <em>loooves yoouu,</em>” she crooned, and I blushed deeply. “I’m happy for you two.”</p><p>“Thanks, Tulip,” I managed, though talking about Cass had brought back my fear for him, my desperation to get him back safely from the Grail.</p><p>Tulip seemed to notice my unease and turned to Jesse. “What happened to you?”</p><p>“Killed Granma. Killed Jody. Killed TC. Burned the place to the ground,” he said shortly, and the rest of the drive passed in silence.</p><p>Our destination was a vaguely familiar, rundown bungalow with a detached garage. It wasn’t until old, dusty glass crunched underfoot that I recognized it—the dead man’s house, where I’d rested as I tracked Jesse, Tulip, and Cassidy from Annville. I hesitated, eyeing the open door anxiously, but Tulip and Jesse didn’t pause and I hurried after them.</p><p>The man’s body was gone, thankfully, but the stench of decay still hung in the air, and I swallowed against the nausea that threatened to rise in my stomach. The electricity to the building had been cut, and the items in the fridge were largely unrecognizable, save a six-pack of tepid beer. Jesse cracked one and jerked his head toward the detached garage. “Come on,” he instructed, and strode away without waiting to see if I followed.</p><p>The smell of rot was lighter in the garage, but it hung most heavily around the large, metal cage that he uncovered with a flourish. He smirked as he swung the creaking door open. “Strong. Safe. It’s perfect.”</p><p>I stared at the filthy bare metal floor of it, my mouth working. I wanted to protest, but without Tulip’s strength and stubbornness, and Jesse and Genesis, I had no earthly idea how I would even find Cass, never mind free him. I gritted my teeth and stepped toward the cage, but sudden panic, shocking in its strength, flared to life in my chest. My heart beat like a trapped bird, panicked and battering the walls in its desperation to escape.</p><p>I clenched my jaw and squeezed my eyes shut, though tears leaked out from under the lids. “I can’t,” I choked out, my face flaming in humiliation.</p><p>“I know it ain’t a presidential suite, but it’s not like we got a lot of options here, Juniper.” His voice was impatient, irritated.</p><p>“I <em>know!</em>” I hated my weakness and my fear. “I just can’t…with <em>you.</em>”</p><p>It took him a moment to understand, and then his voice was laden with outrage. “It’s not the <em>same </em>Juniper, Jesus, you’re the one who said you needed it!”</p><p>“Can you <em>please</em> just go get Tulip.” My nails were digging into my palms, my cheeks burned.</p><p>He sighed heavily at the inconvenience and his bootheels clicked against the cement floor as he stalked away; I jumped as the door slammed behind him. Tulip slipped into the garage only moments later, and already I felt calmer. She had a ratty old comforter balled in her arms, and she laid it out over the floor of the cage briskly.</p><p>“Thank you,” I whispered, staring at the floor. Her arms wrapped around me, surprising me, and I let my forehead fall against her shoulder, pulling in deep, hitching, not-quite-sobbing breaths. She only let me go on for a few seconds before she patted my back briskly and pulled away, and I crawled into the cage. She shut the door behind me, and I double checked the latch as she watched. She surprised me again when she lowered herself to the dusty floor with her back against the cage bars.</p><p>“Oh! Tulip, you don’t have to—”</p><p>“I <em>know </em>I don’t have to,” she cut me off, waving my protest away. “I’m not gonna leave my friend alone in a creepy murder garage when her boyfriend’s off kidnapped by a buncha fascist freaks, alright?” Her tone dared me to argue the point.</p><p>I managed a shaky smile, though I could feel tears threatening again. “Alright. Thanks, Tulip. But once…once, you know, the moon is up, go get some sleep, okay?”</p><p>“Oh, yeah, I ain’t stayin’ for that shit. That’s gross. Bones crackin’ and guts rearrangin’ and all that. Makes me sick.” But she smiled as she spoke, and reached through the bars to lay her hand palm up on the comforter. I took it, and thought I would never feel more warmth toward another person as long as I lived, and we waited.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0055"><h2>55. The Holy Bar and Grail</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper, Tulip, and Jesse begin the work of getting Cassidy back.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The stench of rotting meat filled my nose, and I pressed my face against my blanket to escape it, only to find that the fabric reeked of stale cigarette smoke. I rolled onto my back and opened my eyes. Bright sunlight filtered into the garage, illuminating the dust motes that floated in and out of the shadows of the bars of my cage. My stomach seized with cold dread as I recalled the events of the day before—the screams of the new vampires as they burned, the stately old Rosen house being torn from its foundation, and Cassidy. Cass gone, taken by the people who had held Jesse’s soul hostage and murdered Tulip in cold blood. I lunged for the door of the cage so quickly that my temple bounced sharply off the bars, a blossom of bruising pain bringing tears to my eyes as I clawed at the latch. The seconds seemed to slow as I struggled with it, every moment I was alone in the garage bringing me closer to spilling over a  sheer edge into mindless panic. At last it sprang free and I scrambled from the cage on my hands and knees, stumbling twice in my haste before I found my feet and sprinted from the garage and into the house.</p><p>Jesse and Tulip glanced up, blinking in surprise as the screen door slammed behind me. I pressed my back against it, panting as though I’d narrowly escaped monstrous pursuers. They were both dressed already, sitting at the dining room table with atlases and maps covering every square inch of it. An open beer sat in front of each of them.</p><p>“You uh, forget something?” Tulip asked, and I glanced down and flushed.</p><p>“My stuff got left at the Rosen’s,” I explained lamely, trying to cover myself.</p><p>“No, it didn’t,” Jesse countered. He kept his eyes on the table as he jerked his head toward the bedroom door. I skittered past them and into the bedroom, and sure enough the little duffel bag that they’d bought for me while we were staying with Dennis was there, along with most of my things. I felt a swell of gratitude toward Jesse for pulling it from Angelville, and resented the feeling as I dressed. They were still poring over maps and plotting when I emerged and joined them at the table.</p><p>“Beer?” Tulip held out the last can, and I raised my eyebrows. “Water’s shut off, it’s the only thing drinkable in the damn house,” she explained, and I took it, wrinkling my nose as I sipped it, bitter and warm.</p><p>“What’s the plan?” I asked, leaning forward to get a better look at the maps. They all appeared to be of the same area of the Middle East—topographical maps, road atlases, and navigation charts of Israel. My chest felt hollow as I grasped the scope of it, how far we’d have to go to get Cass back from the Grail. Tulip’s soft hand wrapped around mine, and I clung to it, the only thing keeping me abreast of my fear.</p><p>“Grail’s command center is here,” Jesse said, tapping one of the maps. “Masada. Don’t know much about it, except it’s big. Heavily guarded. They got money, so they’ll have it all—tanks, planes, helicopters, you name it. Gonna be a bitch getting in.”</p><p>“Can’t you just…make them let us in?” I asked, and he shook his head.</p><p>“Any time they see me they get out noise cancellin’ headphone things. They’re standard issue now, I guess,” he said, and a vindictive grin crossed his face.</p><p>“We should just <em>go</em>,” Tulip insisted. Her knee was bouncing rapidly, shaking the table. “We can’t plan <em>shit</em> without seein’ what we’re workin’ with.” Jesse opened his mouth to protest, and she pushed on. “<em>And</em> we’ll have the whole flight to plan! So let’s <em>go!</em>”</p><p>~~~~</p><p>Stepping out of the doors of the air conditioned, humidity-controlled Atarot Airport to the streets of Jerusalem was like stumbling too close to a raging bonfire. The dry heat baked my face, drying my eyes and drawing beads of sweat to my brow even as the air conditioning still chilled my back. The sun seemed to hang lower in the sky here, closer to us; there was no cloud cover and few trees, and I shuddered at the idea of trying to avoid it.</p><p>Tulip glared over the rims of her sunglasses as a valet brought the Chevelle carefully to rest next to the curb. The man who got out tossed her the keys and waited anxiously as she circled the car, inspecting every square inch inside and out. At last she slid behind the wheel, moving the seat forward with a jerk, and the valet mopped the sweat from his forehead with a relieved smile. Jesse tipped him and tossed our bags in the trunk and we were off, the tires squealing against the pavement before I’d even closed my door.</p><p>“Remember, today we <em>watch.</em> Gather information. That’s it,” Jesse reminded us sternly as Jerusalem shrank behind us, and I sighed, my knee bouncing anxiously.</p><p>“We’ll see how it goes,” Tulip said vaguely, and the engine roared as she asked for even more speed. </p><p>I was restless, twitchy with electric nervous energy that jolted under my skin, and I leaned far over the front seat, craning my neck and straining my eyes for any sign of Masada. There was nothing but a huge mountain in the distance, and my fingers tapped anxiously against the warm leather as I waited for some sign of civilization to appear. </p><p>I grew more agitated as we went. The road seemed to be endless, with no signs and no turnoffs, and the mountain gradually grew to encompass most of the windshield. Jesse had said that the Grail’s base of operations was only sixty miles from the airport, and we’d been driving for an hour along a dirt road that was more reminiscent of a track, with still no sign of development other than one plain-looking stone building, the same color as the sand that surrounded us.</p><p>“Are you <em>sure</em> this is right?!” I finally burst out. Impatience and fear for Cassidy made my voice sharper than I intended. Tulip slammed the breaks, pulling off to the side of the road in a cloud of dust. “I’m sorry,” I said quickly, “I didn’t mean to snap, I—”</p><p>“We’re here,” Jesse said simply. When I only looked at him, he jabbed a finger at the windshield. “<em>That</em> is Masada.”</p><p>He was pointing at the mountain itself. I shielded my eyes and squinted, and then I could see it; the way one side of the mountain was cut into huge steps, too perfectly squared to be shaped by the elements. The rock projections that covered its peak, that I had thought were natural, suddenly took shape as towers and buildings, with tiny windows glinting in the afternoon light. And I could see them, the Grail soldiers, tiny figures in white busily crawling here and there along the ridges of the mountain.</p><p>“Cassidy is in there?” My voice was coming from somewhere far away; I felt I was shrinking away to nothing. The scope of the place, the size of it, a tremendous, impenetrable termite mound of fierce soldiers, all of whom would rather kill Cass than let him go…it was impossible, there was no way, he would die in there, or worse: live forever in there. There was nothing I could do, and I would never, ever--</p><p>A sharp pinch on my arm brought me back to myself. Tulip was watching me over her sunglasses; her neatly rounded nails left red crescents in my skin. “<em>Don’t</em> freak out. If you’re gonna freak out we might as well just send you home.”</p><p>I allowed myself a single huge, slow breath—in, and then out—and somehow wrestled my panic to the back of my mind. Still there, huge and howling, but slightly muted. “Okay. Not freaking out. What are we gonna do?” My voice cracked as I asked, and Tulip pinched me again.</p><p>Jesse lit a cigarette and puffed contemplatively. “We’re gonna need someone on the inside,” he said finally.</p><p>“Marnie Pomerantz?” Tulip offered eagerly, but he shook his head.</p><p>“No. Someone who really knows the inside. And I know where to find ‘em.”</p><p>~~~~</p><p>The Holy Bar and Grail Motel was a squat, square building made all of stone, with fifteen identical white hatchbacks parked outside. It was blessedly air conditioned inside, with stained glass windows shifting the late evening light to violets, blues, and greens, and with slot machines and old arcade games stationed at irregular intervals along the walls. And the entire clientele was Grail soldiers. Every one of them was engaged in some form of violence against a fellow soldier—throwing someone over the bar, smashing someone into a table, or just good old-fashioned grappling.</p><p>“…Maybe if we just give ‘em enough time they’ll all kill each other for us?” I offered hopefully, and Tulip and Jesse smirked. As we watched, one young-looking cadet selected a song on the jukebox, climbed on top of one of the few tables still intact, and began to sing. It was some kind of hymn, and as we watched the Grail soldiers quieted, turning rapt faces to him and raising their voices to join him. I crossed my arms over my chest tightly, my stomach roiling with second-hand embarrassment. Jesse yanked the jukebox’s plug from the wall, and the singing died away. The Grail soldiers turned as one to face us, and I shoved my hands in my pockets to still their sudden shaking.</p><p>“Hi!” Tulip chirped brightly, hopping to sit on the bar. “Sorry to interrupt your little sing-along.” I glanced up at her, confused. This wasn’t the plan. “Your <em>dick </em>of a boss kidnapped my girl here’s boyfriend, and we want him back.” I ducked my head as she gestured to me. “Who wants to help us break into Masada and get him out?”</p><p>Hands all around the room flashed toward hip holsters, but none of them could draw faster than Jesse. “<strong><em>Freeze!</em></strong>” he thundered, and we were surrounded by eerie breathing statues. The barman, a portly bearded man in a flat-topped cap, stared.</p><p>Tulip clicked her tongue, disappointed. “I thought they’d be into it!” She hopped from the counter and paced to stand between Jesse and I, her arms crossed.</p><p>“It’s very surprising,” he said flatly, with a hint of a smirk twitching his lip up. “You sure about this?”</p><p>“Bunch of fascist assholes? Singin’ their fascist songs?” A vindictive smile crossed her face as she nodded. “Hell yeah, I’m sure. Do it.”</p><p>Jesse jerked his head toward Tulip and I. “<strong><em>You work for them now.</em></strong>”</p><p>“We work for them now,” the Grail soldiers echoed dully, and I lifted my chin, trying to look the part.</p><p>Tulip paced among them, looking them over critically. “You’re gonna pay this nice man—” She glanced over her shoulder at the bartender.</p><p>“…Kamal,” he offered weakly.</p><p>“Kamal,” she repeated, rolling the name in her mouth. “You’re gonna pay Kamal here for the night, cause you’re gonna be havin’ a little sleepover right here in the bar. A<em>nd </em>extra for the damage. In the morning, we have work to do.” The Grail soldiers obediently filed to the bar and fell in line to thrust handfuls of money toward a wide-eyed Kamal. That done, they laid down in neat rows across the floor of the bar, and watched Tulip carefully for more instruction. She glared, seeming unsettled by their perfect compliance “Go to <em>sleep!</em>” she snapped, and their heads thunked to the floor, eyes closed, like a room full of faking kindergarteners at naptime. Jesse grabbed a bottle and three shot glasses from the bar, and we picked our way through them to a table in the far corner.</p><p>“What are we actually gonna do with them?” I asked, watching the white-clothed figures feign sleep.</p><p>Jesse poured us each a shot and tossed his back. “I’m gonna meet with Starr. One or two of ‘em will be plants in that meeting. They’ll make sure I have a chance to find Cass. You two are gonna be on the door with the rest—faking like they caught you. I’ll get Cass—”</p><p>“You are <em>not</em> goin’ in <em>alone!</em>” Tulip hissed, glaring.</p><p>“Someone needs to be on the door,” he insisted calmly. “And extractin’ hostages? Not exactly Juniper’s strong suit.” I scowled at him, my fists clenched, but he was right. “I need you two to stick together and keep the door open. No matter what.”</p><p>Tulip’s lips thinned; she was clearly chafing at the idea of missing out on most of the action. At last she raised her shot. “Alright. You go in, we keep the door open.” She turned her eyes to me, waiting.</p><p>I lifted my glass. “This better work, Jesse,” I said quietly, holding his eyes. He poured himself another shot, and we clinked them together.</p><p>“It will,” he said simply, and we drank.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>I couldn’t sleep. The bed felt bizarrely flat and impersonal without Cassidy’s weight drawing me toward its center, my back cold without his warm chest pressed against it. Without the soft white noise of his snoring, my mind was free of distraction and raced in a million directions I didn’t want it to go. I couldn’t stop picturing him, chained and alone in a dark and dripping cell, identical to mine in the Tombs. Or strapped to a table, subjected to cruel experiments. Or exposed to the rays of the sun, to burn an inch at a time. Or, or, or…There was no end to the ways they might be hurting him. And he was <em>alone</em>.</p><p>At last I gave up on rest and left the room, padding quietly through the dark to the bar. Tulip was there, an open bottle of tequila for company. I took the seat next to her, but shook my head when she offered me the bottle.</p><p>“You good?” she asked, her eyes searching and only slightly glazed. I scratched at the grain of the bar and shrugged.</p><p>“Scared for him. Of what’s…happening in there.” The horrifying possibilities began to play behind my eyes again, and I squinted them shut hard. “Scared for us too, I guess,” I added as an afterthought, and Tulip snorted, darkly amused at my priorities.</p><p>“He’ll be <em>fine</em>, Juniper. You know they can’t hurt him, not really.” I bit my tongue against protest. “And they won’t kill him unless they have Jesse.” This gave me a small measure of comfort, though I felt horrible for it.</p><p>“Are <em>you</em> okay?” I asked belatedly, noticing for the first time just how much tequila was gone from the bottle.</p><p>“I’m good,” she said quickly, and when I looked into her eyes again it was like there were metal shutters closed behind them. I raised my eyebrows, and she echoed my shrug. “With jobs like this, you gotta be. You don’t even think about it goin’ wrong, cause then it will. So tomorrow we’re gonna get up, go to Masada, bust that door open, and get your boyfriend back. Right?”</p><p>I tried to match the assuredness in her tone, but my voice wavered. “Right.”</p><p>She squinted at me, unsatisfied, and slid from her stool. “C’mon,” she said, and strode for the door. I hurried to keep up, tripping over and stepping on the sleeping Grail soldiers.</p><p>“Come on <em>where?</em>” I asked once we were outside. She opened the trunk of the Chevelle without answering, and dragged out a long canvas tarp, laying it on the ground. “What are you <em>doing?</em>”</p><p>“We’re preparin’ the homecoming party.” She glanced back at the Holy Bar and Grail. “Or somethin’ like it.” She shook a spray paint can, the rattle of it deafening in the wide, empty desert, and offered it to me. “You wanna do the banner, or the balloons?”</p><p>I was beginning to smile despite myself, touched again by her caring. “Why do you have balloons?”</p><p>“What the hell kinda welcome back party would it be without balloons?” She plucked the packages from the trunk and tossed them at me, one after the other: first green, then orange, then white. My brow furrowed as I recognized that not only did she happen to have balloons, but they happened to be the colors of the Irish flag…and then it clicked.</p><p>“…When did you get these?” I asked slowly, but tears were already filling my eyes. She didn’t look at me, her focus on the careful lettering she was spraying onto the tarp.</p><p>“Mornin’ after the full moon, before you got up. God, you slept <em>forever</em> that morning.” The packages of balloons fell from my hands and she grunted as I flung myself at her back, wrapping my arms around her middle; an errant streak of spray paint marred her careful work. “<em>Juniper!</em>” Her voice was outraged, but her hand came up to squeeze my arm affectionately. “Look what you made me do, you <em>dummy!</em>” I laughed, rubbing my tear-dampened face against her shoulder affectionately before peering over to see the damage.</p><p>“It adds to the charm. He’ll love it.” I squeezed her again, and had to swallow hard before I could speak. “Thank you, Tulip. You’re a great friend.”</p><p>“If you don’t quit goin’ on about it like a big baby I’m puttin’ it all back in the trunk,” she said gruffly, and I let her go, though I was <em>almost</em> sure she was joking. I blew up all of the balloons as she continued painting, and allowed them to float to the ground, grateful that the stillness of the night let them lay where they fell. Watching Tulip at her task, keeping my hands busy, and blowing up balloons until I was lightheaded was just the distraction I needed, and by the time Tulip had finished and was admiring her handiwork, I was feeling steady and much calmer. I tied off the last of the balloons and went to join her. Her letters were tall and thin and uneven, and she’d run short on space close to the end. The banner read <em>WELCOME BACK YOU GOBSHIGHT</em>, and I promptly began leaking tears again, touched by the gesture.</p><p>“How are we gonna hang everything?” I asked, and she scoffed.</p><p>“As if I wouldn’a thought of that.” She pulled a small hammer and a tiny package of nails from the trunk, and I smiled.</p><p>“Tulip O’Hare, you’re <em>amazing</em>,” I said, and I meant it. We piled the balloons onto the tarp and grabbed the corners, creating a makeshift net to get them inside. Tulip climbed onto the bar; between the significant amount of tequila and spray paint fumes she’d consumed and her three-inch bootheels, the sight of her up there gave me minor palpitations. She seemed steady enough though, and I coached her through positioning the tarp, not bothering to keep my voice down, not caring if I woke our Grail soldiers.</p><p>When the banner was hung I snagged the nearest balloon and held it out to her eagerly, but she hesitated, her brow furrowed, looking from the balloon in my hands to the hammer and nails in hers. “<em>Shit!</em>” she whispered explosively, and the combination of her ridiculous expression and my exhaustion sent me into hysterics. She scowled at me, which made me laugh harder, which deepened her scowl. She glared at her hammer for a moment before an inspired smile bloomed across her face, and she hopped down from the bar and disappeared into the room she shared with Jesse. She returned only moments later, clutching a tiny rectangular package, her jaw working rapidly.</p><p>“What…?” I watched, bewildered, as she scrambled onto the bar and gestured for balloons. I handed her one of each color, and she pulled a wad of gum from her mouth, tearing it in three to stick the balloons to the wall above the center of the banner.</p><p>“Good thing Marnie Pomerantz chews gum,” she said, examining her work. She popped another stick in her mouth and offered me one, which I took. We added two more clusters of three balloons, one at each end of the banner, before she hopped down. We surveyed the room; she’d bought packages of twenty, and using only three of each color, fifty-one balloons were left to drift throughout the room, gently pushed here and there by the snores of sleeping Grail officers.</p><p>“Let’s hide the rest in my room,” I suggested. My mischievous grin was interrupted by a yawn, and when we’d finished making tiptoeing, giggling, shushing laps to my room with armfuls of balloons, I sat on the mattress heavily, suddenly exhausted.</p><p>“You gonna be able to sleep now?” Tulip asked. She was leaning against the doorframe, stifling a huge yawn herself.</p><p>I nodded. “Thank you, Tulip. For all of this.” I gestured at the balloons that gently undulated in the draft from the air conditioning. “And for…for being so ready to come here to help Cassidy and for being my friend.” Tears were threatening again, but instead of brushing them away with her usual brusqueness she knelt in front of me so we were eye to eye, and took my hands in hers. For a moment my mind superimposed her with Cassidy, months ago, surrounded by blood and dead angels in All Saints, the night that everything about our relationship had changed. I blinked and the impression was gone—I was here, in Israel, a thousand miles from everything I knew and attacking a fortress with a three-person army in a matter of hours.</p><p>“We are <em>goin’ to get him back</em>, Juniper. I swear. No matter what.” I could see that she meant it, and I nodded. “Try to get some rest. Big day tomorrow.” She gave my hands a final squeeze and was gone.</p><p>I curled up on my side, sure I would lie wide awake until it was time to leave. My eyes tracked one of the balloons as it wafted along the floor, gently bumping against the nightstand, changing course and colliding with the lamp before coming to gently rest with a cluster of balloons, and ever so slowly my thoughts floated away and my eyes drifted closed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>We're officially into season four! I loved working on this chapter, the dynamic between Tulip and Juniper is always fun to explore.<br/>Let me know what you think!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0056"><h2>56. The Door</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper, Tulip, and Jesse put their plan to rescue Cassidy into action.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Grail soldier—Aaron, he’d said his name was—kept a tight grip on my arm as he led me toward the enormous metal door into Masada. The space behind my eyes droned with exhaustion, but with adrenaline coursing through me I felt nearly as buzzed as I had on TC’s meth. I was desperately missing the cool self-assuredness that had come with his drug cocktail. The metal loops around my wrists chafed, and my hands trembled with fear—both that the sabotaged cuffs wouldn’t open when they needed to, and that my shaking would break them apart too soon. At least no one would question my status of terrified prisoner—my knees shook with every step, and goosebumps prickled along my arms and across the back of my neck. The doors alone seemed twenty feet tall, set deep in the side of the mountain, carved with monstrous mythical creatures and hieroglyphs, no handles or peepholes in sight. The ridge above us was lined with white-helmeted soldiers, each armed and highly trained to detect and stop incursions just like this. The slope on our other side was steep—one misstep and you wouldn’t stop rolling and bouncing down the rocky incline until you reached the bottom, where we could just barely see the purple glint of the Chevelle.</p><p>Everything was going according to plan so far. Tulip and I had passed the empty Chevelle as we rode up in the tiny white Grail Nissans with our armed guard, and we hadn’t seen Jesse’s body anywhere along the way, so we could safely assume he’d at least made it inside. The highest-ranking Grail soldier—Tammy—muttered briefly into her radio and the immense doors began to slide open with a deep rasp of stone grating against stone and a great metallic clanking. The easy part was over: Jesse was in, the doors were open. Now the hard part.</p><p><em>Keep</em> the doors open. No matter what.</p><p>Our soldiers began passing through the tiny metal detector in single file, surrendering their weapons on the near side and picking them up on the far. I watched Tulip’s back—her shoulders were squared, and her expression when she twisted her head to observe the sentries was calm. I wished I could share even a fraction of her composure. Ahead, in the immense dim cavern that formed Masada’s vestibule, Tammy seemed to be struggling with her superior officer. I couldn’t make out their words, but her face was strained and annoyed as they argued.</p><p>She raised her arm suddenly, jabbing a finger in our direction, and I could hear her raised voice; strident and insistent. “No, I work for <em>them </em>now!”</p><p>The SO’s brow furrowed in confusion as he stared out at us, and his eyes widened as he understood. “<em>We’re under attack!</em>” The gunfire started immediately, a rain of bullets pitting the sand around me. The SO lurched out of sight; Tammy fired but too late—the huge doors began to grate closed, and my tenuous ray of hope shrank along with the gap between them. Tulip snapped out of her cuffs easily and grabbed a gun and I followed her example, the metal biting into my skin for just a moment before I was free. Five of our Grail soldiers pressed close around me as they’d been ordered, their bulletproof-vested bodies providing some measure of safety. Through tiny chinks in the shifting wall of white I watched Tulip, stark against the rest in all black, taking calm, measured shots, never wasting a bullet.</p><p>“<em>Keep that door open!</em>” I heard her roar, clear even over the thunder of gunfire. One of my guards fell and before the rest could close ranks around me I saw him, a great red crater where his face had been, a fine mist of blood flying as his last breath left his lungs. I hit my knees and scrabbled for his hip, grabbing his pistol and taking careful, awkward aim at the sentries on the wall. My first shot went wild, sending up a puff of dust against the rock, but the second struck a soldier in the shoulder, lodging in his vest. He rubbed at the dark hole there and glared at me before my shields closed the gap.</p><p>Aaron was hit—he staggered back with the force of it, stumbling over my foot and falling backward, trapping me beneath him. I felt it when his shallow panting stopped, and dark blood pooled on the sand next to my cheek.</p><p>“<em>How we doin’ Tammy?</em>” Tulip called over the din, and I was relieved to hear her voice, strong and very much alive. Tammy’s answering scream was less encouraging; it carried on and on, wordless, until at last it ceased along with the grating of the doors.</p><p>The shooting dwindled and died only moments later; once the doors were closed the fortress was impenetrable, and the Grail knew it. I pounded my fist against the sand helplessly, tears streaming as I grasped the scope of our failure. We’d lost, and now Jesse <em>and</em> Cassidy were trapped inside Masada, at the mercy of Starr and his followers. All we’d had to do was manage the door, and we couldn’t do it, and now they were going to die, slow and alone. I lifted my head and brought it crashing down against the sand again, raging at myself.</p><p>“Juniper!” Tulip’s voice. I closed my eyes against it, willing her away. “<em>Juniper!</em>” It came again, worried and searching, and I reluctantly waved an arm from under Aaron’s cooling body. She was there moments later, kicking him off of me and offering a hand. She frowned when I didn’t take it, puzzled. “You hurt?”</p><p>“No, just…” My eyes flicked to the door, an impossible barrier to getting them back. “The door.”</p><p>She scowled down at me fiercely, grabbing me by the front of my jacket and hauling me to my feet. “If we’re still alive, and they’re still stuck in there, <em>we’re not done</em>,” she snarled, and stalked to the door. Tammy’s body was there—or rather, her torso. She’d been trapped between the two massive doors, crushed, her white uniform red to the breast, the stain still spreading. Heedless of the gore and the futility, Tulip jammed her fingers into the tiny gap and pulled, her teeth bared with the effort, throwing all of her inconsequential weight back against the door. I hesitated, knowing—as she must have—that there was no way that even our combined strength would shift the door. “<em>HELP ME!</em>” she snarled furiously, and I wedged my fingers in above hers. Tammy’s congealing blood oozed under my nails, turning them to crimson crescent moons and making me retch. I hauled against the impossible weight of the door; my hands ached, my shoulders strained with the stretch, and my feet skidded against the sand. The door didn’t move.</p><p>“Are you okay, boss?” I shrieked and lost my grip, landing on my ass in the dirt with a sharp thump that clicked my teeth together. My stomach churned; Tammy was somehow, impossibly, still alive. I met Tulip’s eyes and they reflected the same horror I felt. She swallowed convulsively several times before she answered.</p><p>“A-are <em>you</em> okay?” she asked, and embarrassment flitted across her face as she recognized the utter ridiculousness of the question.</p><p>“Fine,” Tammy lied, her voice low and harsh. “Stings a little.” She paused, gasping—I wondered where the air was going, as the doors seemed to have cut off her chest above the lungs. “Remember the mission, boss,” she managed. “If Jerry and Cass are gonna get out, we need this door open and kept open.”</p><p>“Well,” Tulip said, wiping Tammy’s blood against her jeans. “Then they’re screwed.” Her gaze cut to me, apologetic, and my fingers dug furrows in the sand as my fists clenched against despair. If Tulip truly believed that—tenacious, brave, obstinate, fearless, stubborn-as-hell Tulip—we really had lost them.</p><p>“No,” Tammy said, managing to sound impatient despite her grievous condition. “Y-you just gotta throw the switch open.”</p><p>My jaw fell open, and Tulip’s nostrils flared, her fists clenching as Tammy’s words hit home. “There’s a switch that opens the door? There’s a <em>door switch?</em>” For a moment I thought she was going to punch the dying woman, and I couldn’t blame her. “<em>Where the hell is it?!</em>”</p><p>Tammy pointed, and we followed her gaze up, and up, and up. Several hundred feet above us we could see it—kind of—a spot where the rock seemed to level out into a ledge. Tulip exhaled softly before drying her hands against her jeans once more and heading toward the nearly-sheer rock wall that led to the switch.</p><p>“Hey, wait!” I scrambled to my feet, unselfconsciously shedding my jacket and shirt as I followed. “Tulip, I got this.”</p><p>She hesitated, eyeing me skeptically as I continued to strip. “You sure?”</p><p>“Yes,” I said, my eyes not leaving the barely-visible ridge as I peeled my pants off. “Four legs and claws will work a lot better than high heeled boots. And I heal faster than you.” When she still looked hesitant, I rolled my eyes. “<em>And</em> if we get it open and shit goes down again, who’s gonna be more help down here?” She nodded slowly at that, and then wrinkled her nose as I began to shift, my face crunching outward, fingers cracking inward, bones rearranging and stretching into new shapes.</p><p>I crouched, tensed to leap up the wall, but Tulip stopped me, tangling her small hand in the thick ruff across my shoulders. “Be <em>careful</em>, alright?” I bumped my head against her hip gently and backed a few steps to get a running start, and launched myself up the wall.</p><p>The first leap carried me far above Tulip’s head, and I heard her whistle faintly but didn’t pause to look back, all my focus on scrabbling for purchase against the rock. I was panting already, my thick fur a disadvantage in the desert heat. But my claws were sharp and my legs were strong, and I made steady progress, though each step sent a shower of sand and tiny pebbles clattering down the slope. A sharp stone bit into the pad of my paw, and the mountain was hot under my feet, baked by the sun, but I continued single-mindedly up and up, never taking my eyes from the ledge, far above my head still but growing closer all the time.</p><p>My rear legs trembled beneath me, the near-vertical wall forcing them to adapt to a new kind of strain. My forepaws, stretched out above me, ached with the stretch and pull of the climb. I paused for a moment, panting hard, and heard shouted encouragement from far below. Tulip. I glanced down at her, and the height made me cringe against the mountain face, but I was more than halfway there. I thrust myself upward again with renewed ferocity, somehow finding it in me to climb even faster. My lips drew back from my teeth, baring them as I panted. The rhythm of my breaths became a mantra in my head—<em>Jes</em>se and <em>Cass</em>, <em>Jes</em>se and <em>Cass</em>, <em>Jes</em>se and <em>Cass</em>.</p><p>At last I was there, hauling myself over a ledge onto a plateau, my hind claws scrabbling wildly as I finished the climb. I didn’t allow myself to stop, knowing that if I allowed myself to rest for even a moment my legs may mutiny and refuse to let me rise. I’d summited outside a low, crumbling wall made from the same rock as the mountain. Peering through a gap in the wall I could see the switch—a huge lever, like something out of a Frankenstein movie. Next to it, looking absurdly domestic, a Grail agent sat in a metal folding chair, reading a newspaper. I crept closer to the door switch, slinking along the outside of the wall. When I could make out the profile of the Grail agent, I stifled a growl. Flufferman.</p><p>I cleared the wall in an easy jump and lunged against the lever, shoving my shoulder against it. I felt it when the switch clicked into place; the great buried gears turning inside the mountain sent a deep vibration through my paws. Flapping white paper filled my field of view, and when I could see again Flufferman was on her feet, gun unholstered, her arm whipping forward to aim. My jaws closed around her wrist in the same moment she squeezed the trigger, and I screamed as a hot line of pain seared down my side from my shoulder to my hip. My ears were filled with ringing; her lips were moving, her mouth twisted in a sneer, but I couldn’t hear any of it. Her free hand was reaching for the lever.</p><p>
  <em>Keep the doors open. No matter what.</em>
</p><p>I tightened my grip and pulled her back away from the lever, my legs braced, claws scraping against the rock. I felt the bones of her wrist grind together in my jaw, and the gun clunked to the ground at my paws, discharging harmlessly into the sky. Her free hand beat me about the head and neck, clawed at my face, tore at my ears, but I squinted my eyes shut against her assault and continued backing relentlessly toward the edge of the plateau, leaving a trail of our mingled blood as I went.</p><p>I could feel the moment she realized my intention. She flung her weight back suddenly, the abrupt yank making my jaw ache, and as she began screaming I wished I could smile.</p><p>“<em>She-bitch! Dog! ABOMINATION! AGENT OF HELL!</em>” Despite the rage in her tone, there was pleading in her eyes, and surprise that this could be happening. I hesitated for just a moment before I remembered all she’d done and bore down, taking savage pleasure in feeling the delicate bones in her wrist snap, the sensation like biting through a fresh sugar pea. One of my rear paws came down on empty air, and my tail began to wag, slowly at first and then faster.</p><p>With a tremendous heave I twisted my body sideways. Her wrist twisted in my jaw, and she screamed as the bones of her forearm jutted through the skin, jabbing the roof of my mouth hard enough to draw blood. My rotation carried us both to stand sideways at the lip of the precipice, but where I had four strong legs to ground myself, she had only two, and my heart filled with savage satisfaction as I gave a final massive jerk she went tumbling over the edge of the cliff.</p><p>My satisfaction faded and I watched in disbelief as she arrowed her body, pressing her arms tight against her sides to plummet headfirst toward the ground. A moment later she spread them, and her legs too, and then she was gliding, her body suspended in the air by gleaming white fabric that spread from limb to limb. I snarled after her, raging helplessly from the mountain’s edge before I turned my attention to the door.</p><p>It was closed. Jesse was walking away, back down the sloped road that led to the base of the mountain. And he was alone.</p><p>I scanned frantically, an iron vise closing around my heart, willing Cass to be there, but there was no one else in sight. I raced back to the lever, thrust my shoulder against it, but there was no answering grumble of gears—they must have engaged some sort of lockdown.</p><p>It really was all for nothing. The bodies dotting the sand, my searing, bleeding side, and Tammy’s slow and lingering death, still brainwashed by Genesis as she faded. Cassidy was still trapped—if he was even still alive. Could he be alive? If Jesse had made it out safely, he must have been able to use Genesis on the soldiers. The only explanation for him emerging alone was the unthinkable. Cass was gone. I howled my heartbreak at the sky, long and loud, trying to pour out enough despair to stop it crushing me. When I’d finished, my eyes found Jesse again. His shoulders were rounded and he stared hard at the ground as he walked.  </p><p>I picked my slow and painful way down the gentler slope that ran parallel to the road, expecting--nearly hoping--that a Grail soldier was lining up his shot and each next step would be my last. My head was low, my eyes open but unseeing and I stumbled over every stone and divot in my path. When I joined Jesse he rested one hand on my neck as we walked down the mountain together.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I tried.” A low, pained groan rumbled from my chest and then we carried on in silence.</p><p>Tulip was waiting for us behind the wheel of the Chevelle, and my heart broke over again as I watched her expression change, from an expectant grin, to wide-eyed shock, to grim realization. I shifted back, the motion of it tearing my bullet graze open, and climbed silently into the back seat of the car. Tulip wordlessly handed me a plain cotton wrap and I covered myself; the fabric stained through with blood immediately.</p><p>Jesse and Tulip were silent on the drive back to our motel, and I was too numb with shock and hurt to speak. I rested my head against the back of the bench seat and focused on the pain radiating from my side. It was easier than facing the reality of what had happened; less agonizing. The wide welcome banner mocked us as we limped over the threshold, and I wanted to tear it down but couldn’t find the energy. Kamal had poured a tray of tequila shots in preparation for our return, and Tulip downed one before turning to Jesse.</p><p>“What happened in there?” she asked finally, and he shook his head.</p><p>“I don’t know. We made it to the door, but—”</p><p>“He was alive?!” I lifted my head for the first time, my dull eyes sharpening at Jesse’s words.</p><p>Jesse’s brow furrowed, annoyed. “<em>Yes</em>, he’s alive. He’s a goddamned immortal, ain’t he?” I managed my first full breath for an hour, and my heart swelled with the relief of the news, followed by a shade of suspicion. “I got him to the door,” Jesse continued, “just as it was opening. We were clear, no guards. We heard two gunshots, and you screamed.” His eyes cut to me, darting down to the spreading red stain over my side. “That’s when he said he’d stay. Said he had this. The door was already closing. There was nothing I could do.”</p><p>My mouth worked soundlessly, Jesse’s words rolling through me, horrific in their implications. My eyes narrowed suddenly, my fists balling at my sides as I stalked toward him. “You let him go. You let him <em>stay there! ‘Nothing you could do’?!</em>”</p><p>“The door was closing! What should I have done?!” He glared down at me, his expression cold but his eyes alight with anger; we stood nose to nose.</p><p>“Oh, I don’t know, Jesse! Maybe use your <em>fucking mind control power</em> instead of leaving him to be fucking tortured! By people who never would have heard of him if not for <em>you!</em>” I shoved him hard, with both hands, and he fell back a step. Hot tears of rage were flowing now, and when his only response was to glower silently at me I hit him, my knuckles cracking against his scruffy jaw, rocking his head to one side. I drew back to let fly again but he caught my wrist, and when I lifted my other hand he caught that one too.</p><p>“<em>If I’d stayed to fight with him we both coulda been caught!</em>” he hissed. “Then where would you be, huh?” He shook me roughly and I stumbled, struggling to keep my feet.</p><p>“I wish my Daddy had killed you in the Tombs,” I spat, and his eyes widened with surprise and hurt for just a moment before they filled with anger again.</p><p>“<strong><em>Sleep.</em></strong>”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I thrive on comments if you have 'em!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0057"><h2>57. Masada</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Masada rescue attempt: take two. Tulip and Juniper give it another go.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My side ached and itched, and the rough scab that ran from my shoulder to my hip was stiff when I stretched. I frowned at the slightly depleted balloons that still bobbed gently around the room, and lurched to sitting as I woke enough to remember. Cassidy. Tulip. <em>Jesse</em>. My lips pulled back from my teeth as I remembered what he’d done. I lurched out of bed—someone had dressed me as I slept—and pounded on his door.</p><p>“<em>CUSTER!</em>” I roared, not caring who heard. There was no answer, and I shouldered it open: the room was empty. <em>Coward. </em>“<em>Jesse!</em>” I yelled again, turning toward the bar. I bounced off of Tulip, who was glaring at me, her arms crossed over her chest.</p><p>“He’s gone,” she said shortly, and I stared, uncomprehending.</p><p>“Gone <em>where? </em>Call him back here so I can kick his ass,” I snarled, and one corner of her mouth twitched.</p><p>“Can’t. He’s <em>gone</em> gone. Left the night after Masada,” she said, her voice impassive. “Had better things to do, I guess.”</p><p>I absorbed this slowly, giant dusty cogs turning in my aching head. “I…I’m sorry, Tulip,” I offered lamely, and she shrugged.</p><p>“His loss. C’mon. We got things to do.” She pushed past me into the room she’d shared with Jesse and opened the wardrobe. Her items were still all shoved to the right, the left side of the rack conspicuously empty. On a shelf at the back rested a model head, wearing her bright blond Marnie Pomerantz wig. Next to it was a second head wearing a second wig; long black ringlets spilled to pool on the shelf below. She pushed me down on the bed and began pinning my hair tightly to my head, her hands rough but efficient.</p><p>“What things are we doing?” I asked, wincing as she yanked at my scalp.</p><p>“Getting Cass back, <em>duh,</em>” she snapped around a mouthful of bobby pins. “Kamal’s gonna take the Chevelle, they’ll think that’s us—”</p><p>“You’re letting <em>Kamal</em> drive your car?” I blurted, and was rewarded by another painful yank on a lock of hair.</p><p>“<em>Yes,</em> now shut up because things are already happenin’.” I shut my mouth obediently. “You and I are gonna dress up like Grail agents. I still have my suit, and while you were <em>sleepin’ </em>I drove out to the city and got you one.” I bit my tongue at her tone; it wasn’t exactly my fault I’d been unconscious, but I doubted she’d welcome the reminder. “When they get outta their cars to come lookin’ for us in here, we’re gonna sneak into one. Kamal’ll lead us all on a chase and then we wreck ‘em. Medics come to pick up the wounded and bam, we’re inside.” She snapped a wig cap on over my hair and laid an immaculate white suit and silky red shirt on the bed next to me. “Get dressed.”</p><p>I did, quickly, her sense of urgency finally overriding my groggy brain. She yanked my wig on as I buttoned my jacket, and I glanced in the mirror. Yellow-gold eyes, impossible to mistake, glared back at me. “Tulip—” I began, but she was already clicking open a tiny plastic case and yanking my head back.</p><p>“Eyes open,” she commanded, and I obeyed, but couldn’t help blinking as her finger neared my eye. “Stay <em>still</em>, goddamnit,” she muttered, and I tried. At last she managed to pop in the tinted contacts, and when I checked my reflection again my eyes were a deep brown. Chills flashed down my spine as I heard engines outside. “Stay here until you hear ‘em head out the side door to the garage,” Tulip instructed, and she was gone.</p><p>I waited, barely daring to breathe, somehow sweating and chilled at the same time. I heard Flufferman outside yelling orders, and then the thunder of steps entering the motel. I was so still I could hear my heart  galloping between my ears, but the soldiers rushed out again as quickly as they’d entered and I sprinted for the front door.</p><p>Tulip startled me outside, her white and red uniform sending a thrill of terror through me before I recognized her grinning face. Her eyes lit with mischief as we climbed into one of the tiny Nissans together. The Chevelle flew past, and I spotted a flash of Kamal’s exuberant expression before Tulip gunned our engine and I was scrambling to get my seatbelt on.</p><p>Kamal led us back toward Masada at breakneck speed—dust filled the air and every so often a pebble would strike the windshield with a startling <em>crack.</em> We ended up in the middle of the pack, the car bouncing and jittering from side to side over the uneven road, Tulip bent over the wheel with her teeth bared in a manic smile. Kamal led us into a low valley and began doing donuts, the Chevelle’s tires skidding across the sand as the Nissans inched closer, kicking up a great cloud of choking dust. “He’s <em>good</em>,” she murmured, delighted. The cloud grew to engulf the Grail cars, and then the roaring of the Chevelle’s engine ceased. Tulip’s grin faded, and her eyes closed briefly, as though in mourning.</p><p>“What?! What’s wrong?” I asked, squinting out the windows. Then I heard it: the roar of the engine resuming followed by a great metallic <em>crunch</em>, and I squeezed her hand on the wheel as I realized she was sacrificing her beloved car for a chance—just a chance—to breach Masada.</p><p>“Hang on,” she said through gritted teeth, and punched the gas pedal, our nose aimed at a massive boulder. I pressed back against my seat, my feet skidding on the floormat as I tried to back further from the rapidly growing boulder.</p><p>“<em>TULIP! WHAT ARE YOU D—</em>” And then the car crunched against rock, the hood crumpling, and I had the briefest impression of the dashboard coming at my face before nothingness.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>My eyes flashed open and I tensed against impact before I realized I wasn’t in the Nissan anymore. The ceiling above me was stone, and a scratchy white sheet and red blanket covered me. Grail colors. I caught sight of an IV pole out of the corner of my eye and tracked its tube to the back of my hand. I turned my head gingerly—it ached fiercely, and I felt the tug of fresh stitches over my eyebrow as my skin stretched with the movement--and saw Tulip in the next bed, brightly alert and sitting up already, her attention on a handsome young doctor with dark hair and distinguished grey streaks in his stubble.</p><p>“…Marnie…” I managed, and she looked over at me. “Sometimes…your plans are. Bad.” She scoffed and shook her head; I was obviously meant to be grateful we were inside at all. And I was, but some warning would have been welcome.</p><p>“As I was saying, you’re completely fine,” the doctor continued, flipping through Tulip’s chart. No bumps, no broken bones, no hemorrhaging…”</p><p>“<em>Good!</em>” Tulip chirped enthusiastically. “Never been a big hemorrhager. Well, back to work! We got a big project due, Annie and I—” She beamed at me. Annie. “—so we better head out!” She sat up, but the doctor placed an implacable hand on her shoulder, pushing her back to the bed. Tulip glared at his hand, and I swallowed.</p><p>“Love the dedication!” the doctor said, smiling down at her reassuringly. “We’ll have you outta here in no time.”</p><p>Tulip’s friendly smile returned, just a touch of frost appearing at the edges. “You just said I’m <em>fine</em>.”</p><p>“On the outside,” the doctor agreed. “But before you go, I’d like to run a psychological test just to make sure there aren’t any deeper traumas we’ve missed. Is that okay?”</p><p>Tulip’s nostrils flared minutely. “Man, that would be great, it’s just that our supervisor is <em>really </em>on our ass about this project…”</p><p>“He really is,” I cut in helpfully. “He’s being a huge dick about it, said if we don’t get it done this is the end of the line for us.” Tulip flashed an approving smile at me—a real one—and tried to sit up again.</p><p>The doctor’s hand caught her shoulder again, and I saw her fingers twitch with the urge to punch or possibly strangle him. “I’m sorry. I can’t release you without it.”</p><p>Her mask slipped off, and I pinched the bridge of my nose, afraid to watch. “Hey doc,” she hissed, “You’ve touched my shoulder twice now. And I’m <em>fine</em>.”</p><p>“I think you need to just relax and—” There was a soft ripping of tape, and then he screamed and the room erupted into chaos. I squinted one eye open to peek. Tulip was crouched on the bed, feet, elbows, and fists flying. As I watched she snatched her bedpan and brained a nurse with it, the clang deafening over the grunts and exclamations of the personnel trying to contain her. Finally one of the nurses managed to jam a syringe into her arm and slammed the plunger, and in seconds she was down and I was as good as alone in Masada.</p><p>A new doctor, one with thickly rimmed glasses and red hair, took a seat at my bedside. “Hello. Annie…?”</p><p>“Lennox,” I blurted, and flushed, but she didn’t seem to notice.</p><p>“Miss Lennox. I’m Dr. Slotnick. I’m going to run your psych eval before you get back to work.” Her eyes were cold, and she looked as though there were a great many things she cared about more than my psyche.</p><p>I glanced at Tulip, unconscious on her bed and in the process of being tightly restrained, and I swallowed. “…Okay.”</p><p>~~~~</p><p>Dr. Slotnick sped through the evaluation—half the time she didn’t acknowledge my answers, cutting in to rattle off the next question before I’d even stopped speaking. In ten minutes I was back in my counterfeit Grail uniform and standing alone in the hallway, waiting for Tulip. I paced anxiously, my hands stuffed in my pockets, keeping my head down and my eyes on the floor, lost in thoughts of how I could, and probably would, manage to get us all killed. I came to a sharp stop as I ran face-first into a broad, tall chest. I peeked up, the blood draining from my face, and recognized Tulip’s doctor. He scowled down at me.</p><p>“You’re cleared for work, aren’t you?” he asked gruffly. Tulip’s needle stick must have left a bad taste in his mouth.</p><p>“Yessir.” My voice was breathy, barely a whisper, and I was suddenly very conscious of the edge of my wig, only a few inches from his face.</p><p>“Then get back to work,” he snapped grumpily, and I skittered away.</p><p>Okay. So Tulip would have to wait. But maybe I could find Cassidy. I scanned the hall for directional signs as I walked; I wasn’t particularly hopeful, but there was one indicating an elevator ahead, and I quickened my step. Prisoners would be held in the basement, right? If I was building a huge fortress to do nefarious fascist things in, that’s where I would put my dungeon. Unless…My hand hovered over the elevator buttons. What if the Grail, knowing that everyone would expect dungeons to be in the lower levels, had put them on the upper instead? I began to sweat, itching under my wig, frozen in indecision. There was an annoyed sigh from behind me accompanied by a finely manicured hand snaking around me to punch the down button, and it was decided. I stepped into the elevator and tapped the button for the lowest floor, before pressing myself into the back corner.</p><p>The elevator was painfully, achingly slow, and I had to remind myself every moment not to fidget, or sigh, or pick at my nails, or shift from foot to foot. Nothing that marked me as anything other than perfectly at ease—but not to be freakishly still, either. The careful balance of it made me sweat more, and the sweat seeped between my stitches to sting the gash on my forehead.</p><p>At last the doors opened to the first floor, and it was like I’d stepped backward in time to a medieval prison. The tunnel the elevator opened into was narrow, with a dirt floor, the walls and arched ceiling made of uneven round stones. The only modern touches were the lights; there was one placed next to each of the heavy wood doors that studded the stone walls. I inched out of the elevator, creeping into the hall, jumping when the metal doors quietly hissed closed behind me.</p><p>When the humming of the elevator had faded the hall was still, dead silent but for the occasional drip of water. And…singing? It echoed very faintly from the depths of the dungeons, but I closed my eyes and tilted my head and was sure I was really hearing it.</p><p>
  <em>I saw Eve go pickin’ apples off a tree<br/>She came over an’ she offered one to me<br/>I turned an’ said ‘dear madam, go try your luck with Adam,<br/>I’m goin’ home t’ have some fish and chips and tea!</em>
</p><p>I was sprinting, my legs responding to the familiar voice before I could consciously ask them, wobbling in the ridiculous heeled boots Tulip had chosen for me. I had to pause at every fork, the long echoing halls made it sound like the singing was coming from everywhere, but slowly it grew closer. As I closed in I realized there was a second voice, not so rich as Cassidy’s but doubly as enthusiastic. They’d moved on to another song, their raucous shout-singing filling the air now.</p><p>
  <em>The man who drinks the small beer, goes to bed quite sober!<br/>The man who drinks the small beer, goes to bed quite sober!</em>
</p><p>“Cassidy!” I clung to the high barred window in his door, stretching up on my toes but still too short to see in. His singing cut off, but the other voice kept on a few bars before trailing away. There was a scuffle, and a clanking of chains, and then he was there. He was pale and drawn and filthy, his face streaked with dried blood. There were deep, dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes and his stubble was closer to a full, unkempt beard, but he was alive. I stopped being able to take in detail then, because my eyes filled with tears. I reached through the bars to press my hand to his cheek and he clutched it desperately, pressing into the touch. “Oh, Cass,” was all I could manage. </p><p>“Juniper! Jaysis, I t’ought yeh were dead. When I heard…I heard th’ shots and I t’ought…” His voice cut off, as choked as mine, and I stretched my other arm through the bars to cradle his face in both hands.</p><p>“I know,” I said, stroking his cheekbones. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m here.”</p><p>“Whozzat?” came the second voice, though I couldn’t see anyone. “Izzat the bird you been goin’ on about, then?”</p><p>“Give us a <em>moment </em>Birdman, for Chrissake!” Cass snapped, but he was smiling. He rubbed his cheek into my palm for a moment, luxuriating in what must have been the first gentle touch he’d had since New Orleans, then his eyes snapped open, his expression suddenly businesslike. “Tulip?”</p><p>“Upstairs somewhere. She’s okay,” I said quickly.</p><p>“And Jess?”</p><p>At that I frowned. “Gone. Don’t know where. We gotta get you outta here, Cass.” I moved to step back, to get a better look at the door, but he covered my hands with his, holding me there.</p><p>“You gotta get outta here. Tha’s what <em>you </em>gotta do. Get outta here an’ be safe.” He stared into my eyes, as intensely as though he were trying to compel me.</p><p>“What…?” I blinked, trying to understand.</p><p>“Yeh gotta stop doin’ this! Juniper, they c’n t’row anythin’ they want at me an’ I’ll walk it off easy enough. But you! Jaysis, if yeh died tryna save me from somethin’ like this, somethin’ where I’m not even really in danger, I’d never forgive meself.”</p><p>“Well I’m not gonna just leave you here to keep getting hurt!” I snapped, and this time I did pull away, crouching to glare at the door mechanisms, swiping tears from my cheeks angrily. I was so involved in my inspection that I didn’t hear anyone approach until they spoke.</p><p>“Who the hell are you?” The voice was low and raspy, and I swallowed hard before I turned to face its source. The owner of the voice was tall, taller even than Cass—his height, the breadth of his body, and the cruelty in his eyes made me think of Jody. Jody in a finely tailored black suit, with a huge rifle slung over one shoulder, flanked by two burly Grail soldiers.</p><p>“Annie Lennox,” I blurted, and he frowned.</p><p>“Like the singuh?”</p><p>I swallowed again. “Y-yeah.” My voice was a squeak.</p><p>“I <em>tolja</em>,” came Cassidy’s voice from beyond the door. His tone was lazy and contemptuous, completely lacking any familiarity. “If yeh wanted practice before yer final, yeh shoulda done it in class.”</p><p>Understanding flitted across the huge man’s face. “You’re in Advanced Torture! What’d ya think of my methods with our volunteah heah?”</p><p>I tried to call to mind Flufferman’s stoic professionalism, straightening as I replied. “Inspired, sir.” I willed my fists not to clench as I realized this was the man responsible for Cassidy’s appearance.</p><p>“That’s the key with the tough ones. Ya always go for the shlong.” He brushed past me, flipping through a key ring until he found the one for Cassidy’s cell and marched inside. I poised to spring, but Cassidy’s request flashed through my mind, and I forced myself still. “Sadly the vampiyah has uh….pressing engagements elsewhere.” He laughed, though no one else did.</p><p>“Bin meanin’ to ask yeh, Frankie, why <em>Bensonhurst?</em>” Cassidy piped up from inside the cell. “Well known fact tha’ Switzerland has less legal hoops t’ jump t’rough concernin’ the use o’ foreskins.” Bensonhurst. <em>Bensonhurst. </em>I burned it into my mind.</p><p>“<em>Shut up</em>,” the man snapped, and Cassidy grunted with the hollow thump of a boot striking flesh and fell silent. “Mask him,” he snapped, and I peered around the door to watch in horror as they strapped a Lector-esque mask to Cassidy’s face and bound his arms and legs tightly, at last propping him on a dolly and wheeling him out of the room. He didn’t look at me as he passed, his eyes sliding over me as if I were as nondescript as one of the stones in the wall. The man—the torturer—Frankie—paused to look me over as they left the cell, and I froze, swallowing hard. “…Good luck on your practical, kid,” he said finally, and I trembled, Cassidy’s last request at war with my desire to tear the man’s face from his skull.</p><p>Cassidy’s request and my fear won out, and I watched helplessly as they wheeled Cass away down the hall.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>Tulip found me rooted in the same spot—minutes later or hours, there was no way to tell—and I shrank in on myself as she brushed past me into the empty cell.</p><p>“What the hell, Juniper? Where is he?!” She glared at me, and I withered under her anger.</p><p>“They took him,” I cried. “Bensonhurst, he said.”</p><p>“God<em>DAMNIT!</em>” Tulip shouted, and I flinched. “Let’s <em>go</em>,” she snapped, and I hurried to follow her back to the elevator. She jammed the button, growling impatiently when it didn’t come immediately, and when it did she punched the button for the uppermost floor and held it to stop the elevator picking anyone else up. “Why’d you let them take him?!” she demanded, glaring.</p><p>“He told me to!” Tears were coming again and I struggled to maintain my composure. “He said they can’t hurt him, not really, but they can hurt us. And then this guy came…<em>the</em> guy, the one who’s been hurting him, and he’d just told me to let it happen, and—”</p><p>“<em>Alright!</em>” she snarled. “Okay. I get it. Goddamnit, Cass,” she muttered as the doors opened.</p><p>And there he was, as if she’d summoned him—fresh blood splattered across his face, but free and unhurt. His face split in a wide exultant smile and he started toward us, just as the barrel of a massive revolver pressed to his head. I lunged forward, but a sharp pain radiated up my arm, the bones strained to the breaking point as Tulip pressed my palm toward my wrist. Her other arm snaked around my chest to clamp over my mouth.</p><p>“Where are they?” Flufferman. I noted with smug satisfaction that she held her gun lefthanded. I struggled against Tulip’s hold, and the bones of my wrist creaked a warning. Cassidy’s face remained carefully blank, nothing in his stance betraying that we stood only feet away.</p><p>“He can take it if she shoots,” Tulip breathed against my ear. “You know he can. Can you?” I ceased my struggling reluctantly, and the pain in my arm eased off just a bit.</p><p>“Who’s that?” Cass asked.</p><p>“You <em>know</em> who. Tulip and your bitch of a girlfriend.” She drew the hammer of her pistol back, just a little clumsily.</p><p>“Yeh know, I’m not sure? There was talk o’ Bimini there fer awhile, yeh could try there.”</p><p>The pistol pressed against his temple roughly, tilting his head, and Tulip had to tighten her grip again. “I <em>know</em> they’re here.” Rage boiled under her carefully controlled tone. “Awful lot of effort to save your bony ass, if you ask me.”</p><p>“Mm. Now why would they go t’all that work, d’yeh think?” He was playing with her now, though his eyes held mine and I tried to pour all the love I felt for him into my returning look. There was a noise like hard rain falling on concrete; the sound of more guns being cocked and aimed at him.</p><p>“Because they’re fucking stupid,” Flufferman snarled, and Cass turned to face her, bringing the gun to rest against the center of his forehead.</p><p>“They are that, yep. Can be, anyways. But I’ve not seen ‘em.” That was the last I saw of him, his forehead pressed flush to the barrel of Flufferman’s gun as he lied to her face; the elevator doors slid closed with a soft hiss and Tulip released me.</p><p>“<em>No!</em>” I slammed the open door button furiously. “Why did you do that?!”</p><p>“Because you were gonna get your stupid ass killed right in front of him!” Tulip snapped. The doors slid open and we rushed out, but he was gone, and I moaned, my shoulders falling, suddenly heavy with the weight of our loss.</p><p>“You.” I jumped and spun to face the man who addressed us. He was small and slim and immaculately groomed, and he was staring at Tulip. “Come with me.” He didn’t leave room for argument.</p><p>She turned to me. “See you <em>tomorrow</em>,” she said pointedly, and I blinked, reluctant to leave her alone. She glared. “Get <em>home safe</em>,” she pressed, and at last I nodded and watched her follow the man deeper into Masada.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>I paced frantically from one end of the bar to the other, my wig and cap abandoned, my hair still pinned tightly to my scalp. Kamal watched anxiously from the other side, and when he offered me a shot I tossed it back, coughing as it burned down my throat. Tulip still wasn’t back. Cassidy wasn’t back. Jesse was long gone. I was alone. I was the only one left who had even the slightest chance of getting Cassidy and Tulip out of Masada, and I hadn’t even been able to rescue Cass from the Tombs, not really.</p><p>“Maybe they are on their way back right now,” Kamal offered, and I glared.</p><p>“Or maybe they’re <em>both</em> locked in a dungeon.” I took the next shot he offered, swallowing it down with less trouble. “Okay. Okay. What do I have? What can I use?” I rubbed my temples, trying to think.</p><p>It was meant to be rhetorical, but Kamal’s inherent need to be helpful won out. “You have a disguise,” he offered helpfully, nudging the wig toward me, and I nodded.</p><p>“Right. I know where the dungeon is. And the hospital…kind of.” I racked my brain, searching for more, but turned up nothing. I sank onto a barstool, my head in my hands, staring down at the grain of the bar. “Oh, how am I going to do this?” I groaned, and Kamal’s hand patted my shoulder hesitantly.</p><p>“Rest tonight. Wait. Maybe…they will be back in the morning. If not, then we plan.” I nodded without looking at him, but managed a tiny smile when another he nudged another shot into my field of view.</p><p>The door thundered open, crashing against the wall, and a man in a great white coat burst into the bar. The coat was huge and bulky and covered him from his shoulders clear to the floor—a profoundly strange choice for this climate. I thought it was made of shaggy furs at first, but when I squinted I could see it was made entirely of feathers. Not soft downy ones either, but great long flight feathers like the ones that sometimes drift down from osprey nests. And not a coat, I realized. I was boldly staring now. <em>Wings. </em>Great white wings, the span of them easily half the width of the room, but wrapped awkwardly in front of him, rather than gracefully folded behind.</p><p>“Alright…<em>Alright</em>, we’re inside, lemme go! Yeh great oversized pigeon.” The voice emanating from behind the feathery wall was achingly familiar, and I stood shakily, scarcely daring to believe it.</p><p>The man—the angel—folded his wings back out of the way, and he was there. Singed and smoking, covered in blood, filthy and stinking, but there.</p><p>Cassidy.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey y'all! As always, I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing! As always, comments are super appreciated.</p><p>I'm going to start posting twice a week instead of every other day--school isn't leaving me a whole lot of time to write and my AO3 posts are starting to catch up to what I have already written. I'll plan on Monday and Thursday for updates. Sorry to have to slow it down!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0058"><h2>58. Out, Here, Safe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper tries to help Cassidy come back to himself after Masada.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I don’t remember my toes touching the ground once. The next thing I <em>do </em>remember is striking Cassidy’s chest at full speed, sending us both sprawling to the floor with the force of my embrace. The reek of sweat and worse filled my nose, and dried blood flaked away against my lips as I kissed him, but I didn’t care; he was <em>here</em>.</p><p>His arms wrapped around me with crushing strength and the air puffed out of my lungs against his lips. I pulled away only to rub my damp cheek against his scruffy one and to murmur in his ear; “I love you, I love you, <em>I love you</em>.” His eyes drifted closed I spoke, glittering tears leaking from beneath his lids, and he pulled me tighter against his chest.</p><p>“I love yeh, Juniper. Thank yeh fer…fer comin’ after me.” I pressed my lips to his again, tangling my fingers in his greasy, unkempt hair, and then fell to simply running my nose along the length of his bristly cheek, delighting in the closeness of him, the wholeness of him, and his arms wrapped around me, where they belonged.</p><p>“Ah, young love,” came a wistful voice from above me, and I recognized the second singer from Cassidy’s cell. I kissed Cass once more and sat up to examine the angel. The wings had gone, somehow, and without them drawing my eye I could take in the rest of him properly. He was a squat man—a few inches shorter than Cass—wearing nothing but a graying loincloth, fastened under a generous potbelly. He had sad hound dog eyes that peered out over a bulbous nose and a wide mouth. His hair was his oddest feature (wings excluded): a mohawk of sorts, yellowy-white and wispy, the strands drifting here and there as he moved.</p><p>“You got him out?” I asked shyly, and the angel smiled, transforming his face from that of a sad hound dog to something approaching Santa Claus.</p><p>“That we did, that we did! And he singed our wings for our trouble,” he said, but his face was kind and his eyes sparkled.</p><p>I staggered to my feet and hugged him too; after a moment he patted me on the back. “<em>Thank you</em>,” I said, and he gave me a gentle squeeze before I pulled away and hauled Cass to his feet.</p><p>The angel shifted his gaze between us, his eyes growing misty. “Warms the heart, it does,” he said, and left us without another word. I watched him go and then wrapped my arms around Cassidy, pressing my forehead to his chest, heedless of the old sweat and blood that stiffened the fabric of his shirt. His hands came to rest lightly on my hips, his cheek against my hair. He sighed, deep and shuddering, and I felt his body begin to loosen, just a bit.</p><p>“Tell me what you need,” I murmured, rubbing slow circles over the small of his back, and he shrugged. “Food?” Another shrug, and I began to worry. I gnawed my lip, thinking. “Bath and booze?” I offered, and that got a soft chuckle.</p><p>“Yeh know me well, <em>mo grá</em>.” His voice was still low, and I ached for his normal exuberance. I gently untangled myself from our embrace, kissing each of his blood-encrusted knuckles as I pulled them away from my hips, and guided him to the bar.</p><p>“Cass, this is Kamal. He’s been a life saver; we would never have gotten into Masada without him. Kamal, this is Proinsias Cassidy, my…” I stumbled, as I realized we still had no real definition for what we were, but then I smiled and squeezed him closer. “My Cassidy.”</p><p>To his credit, Kamal only stared wide-eyed for a moment before he smiled warmly and thrust his hand over the bar, and Cass shook it briefly. “Mr. Cassidy. I have heard only good things.”</p><p>“Hey up, Kamal.” Cass managed a smile, but he felt unsteady, dead on his feet. I lifted his arm to rest over my shoulders and he leaned into me gratefully.</p><p>“Could we have a bottle of whiskey, please? Bushmills, if you have it. And,” I hesitated, worried of pushing Kamal past his limit. “If you have extra clothes? I would really appreciate it.”</p><p>“No Bushmill,” Kamal said apologetically, but he handed me an unopened bottle with a sleek black label and a bull logo. “Israeli whiskey only. But it’s good. The clothes…” His eyes swept down Cassidy’s body once, and then back to me. “Will be too big. But yes.”</p><p>I smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Kamal.” We turned toward my room, and I wondered belatedly whether Cass would fit comfortably in my tiny tub.</p><p>“Wait,” he said from behind me, and smiled when I turned. “I think the big room, for tonight.” He led us to the very end of the hall and unlocked the last door before handing me its key. The room on the other side was high-ceilinged and airy with a canopy bed at its center; the gauzy white curtains floated on every errant breeze. The sight of it made me shiver. Kamal shot us a knowing smile and left the room, closing the door behind him. As soon as he’d gone I bounded onto the bed and removed the curtains, letting them drift to the floor, and my chills eased.</p><p>I turned to Cassidy, grinning down at him from atop the mattress. “Better,” I said, and he nodded with a small smile. I joined him again, tucking myself tight against his side, and guided him to the bathroom.</p><p>It was beautiful, spacious, with a tiled geometric pattern over every wall. The huge bath sank directly into the floor, inlaid with blue tile that made me think of a swimming pool. I left Cass once more to start the water, and selected a lavender bath oil from the bottles that lined the wall to splash some into the tub. The gentle floral scent saturated the air in seconds, and when I returned to Cassidy his eyes were closed and he was inhaling gently.</p><p>I pressed the bottle of whiskey into his hand and he spun the cap off, sending it bouncing across the floor in his usual fashion, which made me smile. He drank deeply, downing half the bottle in one go and dragging his dirty forearm across his lips without opening his eyes. I brushed my fingers against his cheek gently and he looked down at me, flashing a shadow of his usual crooked grin.</p><p>“Is it okay if I undress you?” I asked, touching the hem of his shirt lightly.</p><p>“’S fine, <em>mo grá</em>,” he replied quietly, and finished the whiskey, setting the empty bottle down next to the sink. I peeled the red scrub top off—it was stiff with dried blood, riddled with bullet holes front and back. I dropped it as soon as it cleared his head, disgusted by its touch. The shirt beneath was once white, but had been dyed red from collar to sternum. I touched the stain gingerly.</p><p>“Yours?” I asked, searching his face.</p><p>“No,” he replied, and his savage smile rendered him unrecognizable and raised a wave of goosebumps down my arms.</p><p>“<em>Good</em>,” I said emphatically, and pulled that off too. The skin beneath was crusted with grime; black smears of dirt, white streaks of old sweat, and splattered halos of dried blood painted a horror show mural across his chest and stomach. I touched one of the bloody rings lightly, and he shuddered. The skin at its center was whole and unblemished, and I frowned, not understanding—until I did. “They shot you?” I circled around to his back and to my horror I found one large halo—the size of my fist, or wider—for each of the smaller ones in front. Exit wounds. My stomach churned, and I hissed softly.</p><p>He smiled gently at my outrage when I circled to face him again. “Don’ worry, love. I shot ‘em back.” I kissed him, hard, but his response felt muted. He was still so far away. I touched the waist of his pants lightly when we parted. “Is this okay?” I asked, and his hand closed over mine, gentle but firm. He didn’t speak, didn’t look at me, and the silence stretched between us. “Do you need time? I can…I can go,” I offered, but his fingers tightened convulsively and he shook his head quickly, jerking it from side to side as if trying to rattle the thoughts from it.</p><p>“’S okay,” he said finally, but he turned his face away as I knelt to remove the red scrub pants. They were caked with dried blood that flaked away as the fabric moved, dusting the beautiful tile floor with rust red specks. His thighs were coated with dark blood to the knee, and some had streaked clear to his ankles.</p><p>“Jesus Christ, Cassidy, what—” I began, but when I raised my eyes I realized he’d begun to weep softly, his shoulders shaking with the effort of keeping quiet. I wrapped my arms around him, cradling the back of his head in one hand, and he bent to rest his forehead against my shoulder. “You’re safe,” I murmured against his ear, stroking his nape. “You’re out, you’re here, you’re safe.” I kept repeating it, rocking him gently until his shaking ceased.</p><p>“I’m sorry I’m not meself,” he said against my shoulder, his voice muffled. “I jus’ need a bit, I’m sorry.” He clung to me tightly, his fists balled in my white jacket as if he was afraid if he didn’t hang on for dear life I would disappear.</p><p>I shushed him gently, pressing kisses along his jaw, his cheek, his temple. “You don’t need to be yourself right now. It would be <em>crazy</em> for you to feel like yourself right now. You’re here, and you’re safe. That’s all you need to be. Okay?” He straightened with a long, snorting sniffle and nodded, managing a shaky, crooked smile. I turned the water off and stripped out of the Grail disguise with a sigh of relief. I pulled what felt like dozens of pins from my hair, piling them next to the empty whiskey bottle, and managed to remove the contacts with some trial and error. When I finished I caught him staring, and blinked. “What?”</p><p>He stepped closer and touched the long, straight wound that stretched down my side. “Is this from…from…”</p><p>I laid my hand over his, entwining our fingers. “From the first time we came, yeah. Flufferman. But I threw her off a cliff, so I’d call it a draw.”</p><p>I hoped he would laugh, or at least grin, but his mouth tightened into a thin line. “’M sorry I keep gettin’ yeh dragged into these t’ings. Yeh’d be better off t’ leave me in the dust.”</p><p>Oh. This again. I sighed deeply, searching for patience. “Cassidy. <em>Proinsias.</em> Look at me.” When he refused I lifted his chin gently, until his soft hazel eyes met mine. “You have never, <em>ever</em>, since I’ve known you, dragged me into anything. You of all people should know I’m too goddamn stubborn to be dragged anywhere I don’t wanna be dragged. Okay?” He nodded once, but his eyes strayed down to the bullet graze again, and I pulled him close and kissed him hard. “I love you. I’m here with you because you’re worth being here for, and I don’t want to be where you’re not.”</p><p>His arms wrapped around me at last, and he rested his chin on my head. “I love you too, Juniper,” he murmured.</p><p>We sank into the steaming tub together, and I pulled Cassidy in front of me gently, to sit between my legs. I pooled the finely scented water in my palms and let it run down over the back of his neck and his shoulders, drawing a soft sigh. He swirled one hand through water that was already clouding with dirt and blood.</p><p>“We’ll have t’ bathe again after the bathin’s done,” he said, with a trace of his old humor, and I kissed his shoulder.</p><p>“A problem for later. Would you like it if I washed your hair?” He nodded, and leaned back against me as I worked shampoo from hairline to nape and ear to ear, taking my time, rubbing tiny circles over every square inch of his scalp, pausing to massage his neck and then starting again at the front. The first round of suds came away grey, but the second was sparkling white, and when I’d rinsed it away I kissed his hairline at the tip of his widow’s peak.</p><p>When I finished with his hair he moved to sit up but I gently held him in place, not ready to let him go. He stiffened for a moment, then melted back against me, giving in. I soaped the fresh, new loofah that lay next to the tub and scrubbed his back in slow circles, leaving the skin behind pink and clean. He pushed into the pressure and I slipped my arm around his stomach, holding him close. His back done, I moved on to his arms, washing them in long, smooth strokes from shoulder to hand. I cleaned under his nails and between his fingers meticulously, removing every possible reminder of where he’d been. I glanced up at him as I worked and caught his crooked grin; a real one that made my heart stutter, though his eyes were misty.</p><p>“What?” I asked, blushing under his gaze.</p><p>“Nothin’. ‘S just good t’ be wit’ you again,” he said, and my blush deepened. I ran the sponge over his stomach and sides, mindful of his ticklishness, but when I started to dip lower he took the sponge from me and floated to the other end of the tub.</p><p>I pursed my lips; it felt important to put my words together in just the right order. “I’m not gonna…I don’t need you to tell me what happened. I don’t want to ask you to think about it more than you will as it is. But…if <em>you </em>feel like you need to, or want to, or like it’ll help at all, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”</p><p>His eyes grew wet again, and he cleared his throat deeply before he replied. “Okay. I know. But thank yeh fer sayin’ it, all th’ same.” He finished cleaning and stood, the water streaming clear from his body at last, and I pulled the plug before climbing out of the tub and fetching him a fluffy white towel. He rubbed it over his hair briskly; when he’d finished his curls stuck up every which way, a downy bird’s nest. “Where’s Tulip?” he asked, and I paused in drying my legs, suddenly anxious.</p><p>“She’s not…back yet. Some guy grabbed her for something, and she told me to come back.” I watched him carefully; he was very still, his knuckles white as he clenched his fists. “I was trying to figure out what to do when you got here.”</p><p>“We gotta get her outta there,” he managed; his voice was tight. I crossed to him and wrapped my arms around him again, enclosing us both in the warm safety of my towel.</p><p>“She’s <em>Tulip</em>. She’s okay, I know she is.” I tried to fill my voice with more confidence than I felt. “If she’s not back tomorrow, we’ll figure something out, okay? Tonight we take care of you.” He hesitated, torn, and nodded at last. We finished drying in silence, and when we emerged to the bedroom Kamal had left clothes folded on the bed and a massive platter of bourekas on the night table, baked golden brown, their tops studded with sesame seeds. I eyed them suspiciously; the pastries could be filled with anything, from sweet dates and walnuts to plain feta cheese, so sharp it puckered the mouth. Cassidy had no such reservations and tore into one, swallowing half of it in one bite. I picked one up and nibbled tentatively; these ones were filled with spinach and chickpeas and cheese, savory and filling. Cass finished four of them to my one, his eyes closed in clear enjoyment, and then yawned hugely.</p><p>I hung my towel and burrowed under the blanket naked, and opened my arms to Cassidy. He turned off the lights and joined me, curling to rest his head on my chest, his arm thrown across my stomach; a reversal of how we usually lay together. I ran my fingers through his hair rhythmically and pressed a kiss to the top of his head when I felt his body relax against mine. “I love you, Cass. I’m so glad you’re here.”</p><p>The arm that rested over my body tightened, trapping me in place, and I hummed happily. “An’ I love you, Juniper.” I kept up my steady, soft strokes of his hair until he began to snore quietly, and only then did I allow myself to drift away.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>I was awoken in the dark by the blankets being jerked from my body, and I groaned disapproval and tugged them back before I realized I couldn’t hear Cassidy’s snoring. He was muttering rapidly, bits of sentences in English and Gaelic, and names—mine and Tulip’s and Jesse’s, but mostly someone named Billy—and as I listened the mattress began to quake with his thrashing. I sat up; the sheets were tangled around him and he fought their hold wildly, a fine film of sweat shining across his deeply furrowed brow. I stretched out a hand but hesitated, and in that moment he gasped awake, lurching to sit up, panting. His eyes were wild and searching, the whites showing all around, but when they landed on me he released a deep shuddering breath and tented his fingers over his eyes.</p><p>“Cassidy?” I touched his shoulder lightly; it was slick with sweat and he shivered at the touch. “What is it?”</p><p>“It was all a dream. Gettin’ out, bein’ here wit’ you. I was back in there, on’y it was me an’ Billy bot’, an’ I couldn’ do nothin’ but watch while that bastard—” He cut himself off, shaking his head with those jolting, jerky movements again.</p><p>I pressed against his side and took his hand tightly in both of mine. “You’re here. I promise.” I hesitated, running the pad of my thumb over his knuckles gently. “Do you think it would help to talk about it? What happened?”</p><p>He was quiet for a long while, staring sightlessly at the wall; so long that it startled me when he freed a sudden flood of words. “They used me for teachin’. <em>Advanced torture</em>, like. T’ree classes a day they’d strap me up like that Vitruvian Man. DaVinci’s, d’yeh know it? Couldn’ move me arms, couldn’ move me legs. Wasn’ bad at first. Bearable, like. Just talkin’ a lotta shite, an’ the shootin’. But bullets’re old news, I can take ‘em like nothin’.” I pressed his hand to my lips, loathe to interrupt but horrified that he was so accustomed to being hurt. “So I got mouthy—yeh know me, can’ hardly help it—an’ then he—” He cut himself off, and another shudder wracked him. “He took down me pants in front o’ all those people, an’ he circumcised me.” I felt him draw into himself, pulling away from me. “An’ they hooked me up to a blood drip, so my…so it jus’ kep’ growin’ back, an’ they’d take it off again. All day.”</p><p>I struggled to comprehend it; the pain he must have felt, the humiliation. I pulled him close to me and kissed his temple. “I’m so sorry, Cassidy. That’s hideous.” I felt him sigh softly against me, and pulled him still closer, wishing I could encircle him completely, shield him entirely.</p><p>“Th’ padre laughed at me.” His voice was small, lost and wondering, and a wall of white-hot rage overtook my vision. I clenched my teeth for a moment and then made myself store it away—Jesse was gone. Cassidy was here and now.</p><p>“The padre doesn’t deserve to call you his friend,” I allowed myself, and kissed his forehead again. “Who’s Billy?” I asked hesitantly. He closed his eyes and his whole body seemed to sag under an impossible weight.</p><p>“He was me bes’ friend,” he said softly. There was another long pause, and I began to wonder if that was all he would share. “We grew up t’gether. Did everythin’ t’gether. When there was talk of an uprisin’, we decided we’d do that t’gether too. Or I decided, an’ he were trustin’ enough t’ follow me. We t’ought it’d be nothin’. Go out an’ kill some English, be back in time fer Easter Sunday wit’ stories t’ make all th’ girls swoon. But it wasn’ that at all.” His eyes were far away again, glazing as he spoke. “We were a bunch o’ striplings wi’ huntin’ rifles against the English army. Billy, he got his…he got hurt bad. An’ he couldn’ run, but I could. I could, an’ I did, an’ he died alone in the street at the end of an English blade, because I’m a coward.” He covered his face again, and didn’t respond when I moved behind him to curl against his back. “Tha’ was th’ same night I became…became this. I deserted, an’ got caught up in a bog, like. An’ somethin’ dragged me down into th’ water an’ bit me. Got what I deserved, I s’pose.”</p><p>There were no words that could touch his hurt so I just held him close, wrapping my arms around him tightly and rocking us both gently. “I…I don’t think Billy would have wanted you to stay and die with him,” I offered hesitantly, but he only shrugged.</p><p>“Never know though, will I?” he asked harshly, but I knew his anger wasn’t with me. He sighed wearily after a moment, and squeezed my hand. “I’m gonna go find somethin’ t’ drink. You get some rest.” He kissed my palm lightly and pulled away, dressing in Kamal’s too-large clothes in the dark.</p><p>“Do you want company?” I asked. I didn’t want him to be alone, not like this.</p><p>“Nah. You get some rest wit’out me blitherin’ on an’ disturbing yer beauty sleep. I’m just gonna have a nip an’ come right back.” His teeth shone in the dark as he smiled and cradled my cheek in his palm. I caught his hand and kissed his palm before I let him go.</p><p>“I love you, Proinsias. Thank you for telling me about Billy.”</p><p>He swept his thumb along the scar on my cheekbone and bent to kiss me once, lightly. “Yeh make it easier’n most,” he said, and then he left me in the dark.</p><p>I meant to stay up and wait for him, so I could remind him again that I loved him and he was worthy of it when he rejoined me in bed, but the minutes stretched out, my eyelids slipped shut longer and longer with each blink, and soon I was fast asleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I would just like to say that I HATE not posting as much. But school is important or WHATEVER.</p><p>As always, thank you so much for reading! Writing about Cassidy getting the TLC he deserved was a delight, and I hope you enjoyed it! Comments make my day.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0059"><h2>59. Love of My Life</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tulip, Juniper, and Cassidy try to decide where to go from here.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I was still alone in the bed when I woke to morning light streaming in the window, painfully bright, and for a moment I questioned my memory of Cassidy’s safe arrival. But his bloodstained clothes still lay in a heap on the bathroom floor, so I dressed quickly and slipped out of our room to find him, trying to quiet the anxiety that gnawed at the back of my mind. I could hear his voice emanating from the bar as soon as I reached the hall—he was talking about Eccarius, and though the memory made me cringe, the perfectly clear mental image of his arms waving and fingers stabbing the air as he narrated filled me with warmth. I grinned as I came in sight of the bar: he was just as animated as I’d imagined, his back to me as he relayed how we’d captured Hoover with Eccarius and the Children of Blood to Tulip, safely back from Masada and apparently unharmed. The vulnerability of the night before was nowhere to be found, tucked tidily away in the light of day, but the bar in front of him was littered with shot glasses and empty bottles.</p><p>I slipped past a white-robed man with a red sash who was engrossed in one of the ancient arcade games and wrapped my arms around Cassidy’s waist from behind. He turned to kiss me on the cheek as I brought my chin to rest on his shoulder and his hand found mine with easy familiarity, his free one taking on the work of two as he continued to speak. I grinned at Tulip as his enthusiastic yarn-spinning washed over both of us; she seemed almost as happy as I was to have him back.  </p><p>“You didn’t tell me you <em>slept </em>with the other vampire,” Tulip cut in when he paused for breath, smirking gleefully at me.</p><p>I blushed deeply, but returned her leer. “Well, <em>technically</em> I’m not the one who had sex with him…” I slid my eyes sideways to Cass, and felt smug at the sight of rising color in his cheeks.</p><p>“Did yeh know Tulip almos’ got dragged t’ Hell?” he asked evasively. “’N had t’ fight a bunch o’ Nazis?”</p><p>“Yeah, I knew. And met Hitler,” I added. His eyebrows drew down sulkily, and I kissed his bristly cheek. “We had lots of time to talk on the plane here, remember,” I reminded him gently.</p><p>“Yeah, well, I’m sick o’ bein’ th’ last one t’ hear about these t’ings, d’yeh know what I mean?” he grumbled, but his scowl was playful. He took another shot with a practiced flick of his wrist, and his expression grew contemplative. “Speakin’ of the t’ree o’ yehs on th’ plane…” he started, but seemed unsure of how to continue.</p><p>Tulip took a deep breath, her eyes flicking to me before she plunged forward. “Did you tell Jesse we slept together?” she asked, her eyes narrowed. Cass hesitated, and she pushed on. “Did you tell him we had sex?” I tried to swallow the hot wave of jealousy that washed through me—that had been in Annville, in what felt like another life. When Cassidy still didn’t answer, she smiled innocently. “I’m not <em>mad</em>, just tell me! Did you?” I pressed my lips together against the desire to warn him of the clear trap in his path. Tulip deserved the truth.</p><p>He swallowed another shot before he finally answered. “Yeah.”</p><p>Her hand flashed out, her fist catching him square in the nose, hard enough that the force of it passed through him and rocked me back a step.</p><p>“What the <em>fuck</em>, Tulip?!” I circled to his front to examine him, but he waved me away, pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger gingerly. She ignored us, turning back to the bar and swallowing another two shots in quick succession.</p><p>“<em>Nissa</em>, look,” Kamal cut in, thrusting his phone toward us. “Bad news.”</p><p>“<em>What?!</em>” Tulip snapped, but then her attention was caught by the news bulletin on the screen. There’d been a mass murder at some kind of sex convention, and Jesse’s face, pixelated but unmistakable, hovered next to the news anchor. We watched the broadcast together in silence; there was a manhunt underway, and anyone with information was begged to call the flashing hotline number at the bottom of the screen.</p><p>The silence that followed the news briefing was thick. I could hardly believe it was true. Jesse’d been <em>off</em> since I’d rejoined the three of them in New Orleans—cold at first, and lately even cruel. He wasn’t the Jesse who I’d first known, who offered shelter to a stranger he’d just met. But mass murder? And this didn’t even seem to be related to the Grail. The flashes of goodness I’d seen, the bits of the first Jesse I’d met that sometimes shone through, had kept a tiny bit of hope alive that Jesse could come back from whatever was going on with him. But this was too much for me to reconcile. I had to acknowledge that maybe the kind and caring Jesse I met in Annville was the atypical Jesse, and the merciless man on the screen was who he really was.</p><p>Cass sighed beside me, long and weary. “Guess we better get after ‘im then, eh?”</p><p>I bit my lip, admiring Cassidy’s seemingly endless capacity for forgiveness. I didn’t <em>want</em> to go after Jesse. I’d have been perfectly content never to see him again, and that was before he went on a killing spree. But I didn’t know how to tell Cass that, and <em>really</em> didn’t know how to say it in front of Tulip. The quiet stretched out, and I scratched at the grain of the bar again. I’d just have to say it. Cassidy would understand—hell, maybe even Tulip would get it. I’d just have to open my mouth and say—</p><p>“No,” Tulip said dully, and I leaned forward to stare at her across Cassidy. “What? I ain’t gonna go chasin’ him down <em>again. </em>If he wants to get gone, he can just keep gettin’.” She scowled at us, daring us to argue, to try to convince her.</p><p>Cass took the bait. “Now, are yeh sure—” She glared at him, and we both flinched in anticipation of another punch. “<em>Alright</em>,” he amended quickly. “Not goin’ after Jess. But then what’re we doin’?”</p><p>“Well, Jesus an’ I are gonna go walk the Earth, I guess. You two should come with us!” My eyes slid slowly to the man at in the corner, still fully absorbed in his arcade game.</p><p>“That’s…? Like, <em>the </em>Jesus?” His tiny pixelated spaceship exploded as I watched, and he swiveled on his stool to face the three of us.</p><p>“Hey, do you have ten agorot? I died,” he said bashfully. His face was handsome, but somehow incredibly young and naïve.</p><p>“Yeah, well, give it t’ree days,” Cass quipped, and I snorted. Tulip flipped him a coin that sparkled as it arced through the air and he went back to his game. “What d’yeh mean <em>walkin’ the Earth?</em>”</p><p>“Doin’ whatever we want! He wants to see Vegas. He’s never eaten a corndog, you believe that? Or an m&amp;m pancake.” I met Cassidy’s eyes, hesitant, and he searched my face. “It’ll be <em>fun</em>. No God shit, no Grail, just the open road and whatever we feel like doin’.”</p><p>“Well, I dunno how you expect me t’ travel. Didn’ exactly have time t’ grab me passport when I was bein’ abducted, like,” Cass stalled.</p><p>Tulip rolled her eyes, seeming offended at the idea that she might have missed such a glaring detail. She hopped off her stool and disappeared into her and Jesse’s room (<em>her</em> room, I reminded myself), and returned a moment later, slapping two blue passports on the bar. I glared at mine resentfully, but Cassidy picked his up and flipped through it. His eyebrows raised when he reached the photo page. Tulip had managed to find one of his mugshots and gotten it colorized—he glared out at us from beneath a meticulously slicked pompadour, with one carefully twisted curl hanging over his forehead.</p><p>“O’Flanahan. Really?” He raised one eyebrow, and Tulip shrugged ruefully. He snatched my passport from the bar top before I could snag it, and laughed when he found my name.</p><p>“Juniper <em>Custer</em>,” he chortled, and grinned at Tulip. “Expect that went down a treat, did it?”</p><p>Tulip returned his smile as I glared. “Thought she was gonna deck him when he called her <em>baby sis</em>,” she said, and I grabbed the passport from his hands and stuffed it in my pocket. “So you’re comin’?”</p><p>I wanted to tell her no, or at least that I wasn’t sure and needed to think, but Cass spoke up before I could. “Sure we are. We oughta stick t’gether, th’ t’ree of us.” Tulip clapped him on the back enthusiastically.</p><p>“Good. I gotta go fix up the car, and we’ll leave when it’s ready.” She disappeared out the side door, and when Jesus realized she’d gone he glided after her without a word.</p><p>“D’yeh have much in the way o’ packin’?” Cass asked, and I shook my head.</p><p>“We didn’t really make much time for settling in,” I said with a tight smile. I led him back to the room I’d taken when we’d first arrived, and was nearly as surprised as he was at the sea of sadly depleted balloons.</p><p>“What th’ hell is all this?” he asked dazedly, scooping up one balloon of each color. I laughed at his perplexed expression and wrapped my arms around him.</p><p>“Tulip’s idea. She wanted to have a welcome home party—she brought a banner and everything. We set everything up the night before we came to Masada. It kinda fell apart, though. I forgot all about these.” I kicked one of the balloons gently, sending it sailing.</p><p>His arms engulfed me then, crushing in their strength, and  he pressed his lips hard to mine. “Thank yeh. ‘S bin a long time since there was a home t’ come back <em>to</em>, d’yeh know what I mean?” He chuckled when I peered around us at the room; small and cramped, with a single bed only a little bigger than the one we’d shared in New Orleans. “Not th’ <em>room, </em>yeh silly thing,” he explained, and I flushed happily when I grasped his meaning. I kissed him, nipping at his lower lip gently, unsure of whether he would respond.</p><p>He did, tentatively at first, but when I brushed my tongue over the curve of his lip he moaned softly and his hands tightened over the swells of my hips. We stumbled to the tiny bed together, scattering balloons this way and that, and I pushed him down on the mattress, straddling his lap and grinding against the growing hardness there. He slipped my shirt over my head and pressed gentle kisses over my breasts as he removed my bra. His lips brushed over my nipples, drawing them effortlessly into hard peaks, and I gasped softly and captured his mouth again. He sighed as I trailed kisses from just below his ear to his collar, moaned as I gently nipped and sucked and licked.</p><p>I grasped the hem of his borrowed shirt, but hesitated—I didn’t want to push him too far, too fast. “Is this alright?” He stripped it off wordlessly and pulled me close again, and the warmth of his skin against mine was bliss. He leaned back without breaking our kiss, until he was lying down and I was resting comfortably on top of him. I sat up to run my fingers down his chest and stomach to his hips, smiling when I drew a shiver and a soft sigh. I hooked my pointer finger under the waist of his pants and drew it back and forth across his skin. I felt his body stiffen for a moment, and pulled back. “We don’t have to…” I searched his face as he considered this, his hands rubbing up and down my thighs.</p><p>“I wan’ to,” he murmured finally, his voice husky, and I kissed him, soft and sweet.</p><p>“What do you want?” I asked when we broke apart, and hummed in pleasure when his nails grazed the skin of my back. I squeaked in surprise as he rolled us so he was on top, and he grinned down at me mischievously. Now he slipped his hand under <em>my</em> waistband, and I gasped and bucked as his fingers found the soft curls and wetness there.</p><p>“I wanna take yeh every which way from Sunday, ‘s what I want,” he murmured throatily, and kissed his way down my body, edging back off the bed to kneel between my legs and sliding my pants off in one fluid motion. He growled as he took me in, sprawled naked on the bed, and hooked one arm under my knee to pull my thigh to his lips. He drew his lips closer to my center, the prickle of his stubble making me squirm, and when his breath warmed my slick slit I moaned pleadingly, my fists clenching against the sheets.</p><p>“But I want—” I moaned, my words lost as his tongue dipped between my folds, lapping softly, “I wanted t-to do things for <em>you</em>,” I managed between gasps, and when he chuckled the hot puffs of air against me made me sigh.</p><p>“Oh, yeh’re doin’ t’ings fer me. Count on it,” he said, grinning up at me before he plunged back between my legs. His tongue flicked against my clit in light, quick strokes and I thrust one hand into his hair to keep him there, demanding more, propping my leg against his shoulder to ease his access. In only minutes I could feel the tide of pleasure rising in me, building with each stroke of his clever tongue. I tugged at his hair insistently until he raised his head, and then I smiled down at him, my eyes hazy with pleasure.</p><p>“I want you. <em>Please</em>,” I murmured, and his mouth curved in a slow grin before he stood to strip his pants off, exposing his hard and swollen cock. I dipped my fingers between my legs as I watched him finish disrobing, rubbing myself in tiny, slow circles that kept my climax within reach. He was back in a moment, hovering over me, dipping to kiss me so I could taste myself on his tongue.</p><p>“Are yeh ready for me?” he asked huskily, and I nodded so quickly he laughed. He entered me then and I grabbed his ass to pull him closer, to take him in to the hilt, drawing a deep moan.  And then we were moving together, his forehead pressed to mine, his soft breaths puffing against my cheeks, filling my nose with the burn of whiskey and cigarette smoke. I wrapped my legs around him, savoring the way he filled me nearly to the point of pain, relishing the warm, wet friction between us. His brow was furrowed but he held my eyes as he thrust, and I smiled up at him dazedly and brushed my fingers along his cheek.</p><p>“I love you, Cass,” I murmured, and he pressed a damp kiss to my forehead.</p><p>“I love yeh, Juniper. More’n I can say.” He kissed each cheekbone before he brought his lips to mine and held them there as his thrusts began to come rougher, faster.</p><p>That tide of pleasure was rising n me again, higher with each thrust. “<em>Oh</em>, Cass. Don’t stop. <em>Please</em> don’t stop,” I whimpered, and my words seemed to push him closer to his edge; he began to grunt deeply with each thrust, his gasping breaths coming from between clenched teeth.</p><p>Over our moans and the squeaking of the bed, soft piano began to play—from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. My eyes flicked from side to side, trying to find the source, but when Cassidy began to slow, looking puzzled, I pulled him close again. “<em>No, </em>keep…keep going,” I ordered. My bewilderment wasn’t enough to pull me from this moment. The lights cut, so that the only illumination was the light that filtered through the window.</p><p>“What…th’…<em>hell</em>,” Cass muttered between thrusts, and I giggled breathlessly.</p><p>“I don’t know, but <em>ooh</em>, just…” I squeaked as a wave of pleasure washed over me. “Don’t stop.” I could feel it now, just beyond the edge of sensation; my cunt tightened around Cass and he moaned, thrusting into me harder. A harp joined the piano, and then a smooth, familiar voice, somehow coming from all around me and directly between my ears.</p><p>
  <em>Love of my life, you’ve hurt me<br/>You’ve broken my heart, and now you leave me…</em>
</p><p>He kissed me, softly and passionately, slowing his thrusts to match the tender tone of the music, and I cradled his cheeks, holding his eyes as he rested his forehead against mine.</p><p>
  <em>Love of my life, can’t you see?</em>
</p><p>I kissed him again, gently sucking at his lower lip, and he sighed beatifically. I brushed my fingertips over his shoulders and down his back to his hips to guide his motions gently; the muscles of his ass flexed and twitched under my hands. The music swelled, the tempo increasing as a heady guitar solo took the lead. The aching pleasure at my core was grew along with it, and I trembled with the anticipation of my climax. “Cum with me, Proinsias,” I murmured, and at the words a great shudder took him. I felt him pulse as I tightened around him and he grabbed my hands, entwining his fingers with mine tightly and pinning me to the bed. I moaned as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through me, drowning me, everything was Cassidy and everything was <em>right</em>. He lowered himself on top of me, panting, rubbing his nose lightly against mine.</p><p>
  <em>Back, hurry back<br/>Please, bring it back home to me<br/>Because you don’t know<br/>What it means to me…</em>
</p><p>He pulled out of me carefully, rolling to lay beside me, and I curled against him with my head on his chest as the music faded away and the lights came back alive. He wrapped one arm around me, combing his fingers through my hair. The other he stretched luxuriously and then tucked behind his head. I drowsed happily, brushing my fingers over the feathers tattooed on his chest.</p><p>“Jus’ t’ be sure, yeh heard that too, right?” he asked finally, and I chuckled softly.</p><p>“Yep.” I grinned up at him. “Maybe Kamal was trying to set a mood for us,” I teased, and he scoffed. We fell into lazy, satisfied silence, and he watched as I continued tracing his tattoos. I felt I could never fully memorize them; every time I was able to sit and look at him they struck me in a new way, or I found some new detail or tiny piece I’d never noticed before. Now I fingered a tiny clover near the crook of his elbow; he had several, dotted here and there among the portraits and texts.</p><p>He hummed contentedly and watched my hand, his expression soft. “I get one o’ those whenever I get t’ missin’ home. Still comes on somethin’ fierce, sometimes.”</p><p>I kissed his chest lightly. At the thought of home a hollow space opened up behind my heart; a deep-biting desire for somewhere <em>mine</em>, somewhere that I knew was waiting for me after all this. “Have you ever gone back?” My eyes flicked to his face; he was shaking his head.</p><p>“Nah. I miss what it used t’ be, yeh know what I mean? Think goin’ there ‘n seein’ it all changed an’ modernized’d be worse than the missin’ it.” I nodded my head, though I couldn’t wrap my head around living so long that a place could change that drastically.</p><p>“What about…do you know if you have family?” His gentle strokes over my hair ceased, and when I risked a glance up at him his mouth was a tight line; he didn’t look at me. I’d pried too deeply, flipped one page too far, and I sighed softly as the book cover slammed shut behind his eyes.</p><p>“Never looked. Dunno what good it’d do ‘em—havin’ a great-great-great uncle like me.” He spread his arms, gesturing down at himself. “Didn’ do much good fer Dennis, if yeh remember.”</p><p>“<em>Hey</em>.” I turned his face toward me, running my thumb over his cheekbone. “I know they’d be happy to know you.” He scoffed, and I kissed him. “You are <em>smart</em>.” Another kiss. “And <em>kind</em>.” A third. “And strong and brave.” A fourth and a fifth. “And funny as hell.” I kissed him a final time. “You make my life better, and you’d make theirs better too. If you wanted.”</p><p>He managed a smile, and squeezed me closer for a moment. “Yeh’d best get packed. Tulip’ll kill one or bot’ of us if we keep her’n Jesus waitin’.” Anxiety swelled in me, tightening my chest, and I clung to him with my face pressed to his skin and my cheeks burning. “What?” I shook my head, and when he tried to lift my chin I resisted. “Juniper, what is it?”</p><p>“I don’t think I want to go.” My voice was muffled against his chest. I was afraid to look at him—I was letting him down; I knew he craved new, wild adventures more than he’d ever craved any drug.</p><p>“Yeh what? Speak up, <em>mo grá</em>.” I sighed and lifted my head.</p><p>“I don’t…I don’t really want to…walk the Earth.” I kept my eyes on the delicate <em>Q</em> that painted his shoulder, following the elegantly curving tail of it, and dreaded his disappointment.</p><p>“Why didn’ yeh say so?” Wonder and amusement colored his tone, but he lifted my chin gently. “I don’ want yeh t’ do anythin’ you don’ want to.”</p><p>“You just seemed excited! I didn’t have a chance. But I’m just…<em>tired</em>. I want to wake up in the morning and know I’ll go to sleep again in the same place that night. Just for a bit.” My eyes welled up as I spoke.</p><p>“Well, alright…” He seemed puzzled. “But why’re yeh all broken up about it, like?”</p><p>“Because I know that’s not what <em>you </em>want! You wanna go and do things and have adventures.” I plopped my chin back onto his chest. He grinned crookedly, and I drank it in desperately; the crinkles that surrounded his twinkling eyes, and the way the eyebrow over the lifted corner of his mouth twitched upward ever so slightly.</p><p>“What was it yeh said las’ night? <em>I don’ wanna be where yeh’re not</em>, Juniper Guidry. If yeh’re done adventurin’, then we can be done.” I searched his face for any sign that he was just saying what I wanted to hear, but found none. “Tha’s bin th’ plan, hasn’ it? T’ finish th’ trip out west an’ see some whales.”</p><p>I beamed up at him; I remembered the conversation, but to hear it again, to know that it was still what he wanted, made me warm all over. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I guess…I just don’t want you to feel like you’re missing out, not going with Tulip. Like you’re cutting out before the end of the adventure.”</p><p>He kissed me. “I t’ink escapin’ from a bunch o’ crypto fascists wit’ a <em>literal</em> angel is a pretty grand conclusion, don’ you?”</p><p>“When you put it that way,” I agreed, kissing him again, then hesitated. “Are you <em>sure</em> it’s what you want?”</p><p>“I’ve had more’n enough adventure t’ last me a while. A little domesticity sounds like jus’ the t’ing. Truly.” He rolled off the bed, landing knelt on one knee. “Juniper Guidry,” he said seriously, though his eyes twinkled, and my face flamed as I sat up, my eyes wide with disbelief. “Will you do me th’ honor of livin’ wi’ me in a shitty flat we can’t hardly afford, an’ lettin’ me pester yeh mornin’, noon, an’ night every day until yeh bludgeon me t’ death wit’ a billy club?”</p><p>I laughed out loud, and cradled his face to press my lips to his. “Who could say no to that?” I teased, and then rubbed my nose against his. “Yes, please. That sounds perfect.” He climbed back into bed with me, kissing every square inch of skin he could reach. “I do have one condition, though,” I added, and he raised an eyebrow curiously. “<em>You’re</em> telling Tulip.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading! Comments are always welcome!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0060"><h2>60. Hello Goodbye</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cassidy and Juniper break the news to Tulip that they're going their own way--she takes it exactly as expected.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>We dressed and found Tulip in the garage with Jesus, her jumpsuited legs all that were visible from under the Chevelle. The car looked to be in remarkably good shape, considering it’s battle with the Grail fleet.</p><p>“Hand me that half-inch socket wrench, wouldja?” Her disembodied voice was accompanied by one small, delicate-looking hand, palm up and expectantly open. When Jesus only stared perplexed at the open tool box Cassidy snatched up the wrench and handed it to her. The hand disappeared again, and I exchanged grins with Cassidy as her muffled grunts and muttered cursing drifted from somewhere under the driver’s seat.</p><p>She slid out a few minutes later, beaming, a streak of grease darkening one cheek. “Hey, guys! You ready to go? I just gotta straighten out this axle and then we can hit the road. Walkin’ the Earth!” She disappeared again and I sighed, my heart heavy in my chest.</p><p>“Give us a minute, yeah?” Cass murmured to Jesus. He frowned sullenly but shuffled out, letting the door slam behind him. “Lissen, Tulip, we gotta talk to yeh.” Her face appeared again, baffled this time, and she sat up on her creeper, resting her elbows on her knees. Under her gaze, Cassidy seemed to wither, his mouth opening and closing like a caught fish.</p><p>“Well, what is it?” Tulip pressed, beginning to frown. When Cassidy continued to flounder, I joined her on the creeper, resting my shoulder against hers. Her frown deepened, her expression suspicious.</p><p>“Listen, Tulip, Cass and I were talking, and I think…I think…” I hesitated, my eyes already growing misty. “Listen it doesn’t have anything to do with <em>you</em>, or how we feel about you, we both love you very much, it’s just—”</p><p>“You don’t wanna come,” she cut in, grimly accepting. “I kinda figured you wouldn’t.”</p><p>“You did?” One of the tears spilled over, and I swiped it away hastily.</p><p>“Well, yeah. Me ‘n Jesse ‘n Cass, we can’t sit still too long or we start to go a little nuts. But I know it ain’t for you. Only reason you’re here is cause we keep draggin’ you into our trouble.” She grinned at me, and I managed a laugh.</p><p>“That’s not…<em>not </em>true,” I agreed, and she squeezed my hand.</p><p>“But you don’t have to stay, if you don’t wanna. I’ll be <em>fine</em>. Cass’ll be with me, and hell, if anything happens we got a guy who can bring people back from the dead.” She grinned at Cassidy, who swallowed and caught my eyes as we realized Tulip’s misunderstanding.</p><p>“Er…th’ t’ing is, Tulip, I’m goin’ wit’ Juniper.” His weight shifted unconsciously away from her, as though he half expected her to hit him again.</p><p>She digested this slowly, staring at him with her eyes narrowed, as though she were trying to see through his skull to the cogs turning within. “…What are you even gonna <em>do?</em>” she asked abruptly, and I flushed.</p><p>“We bin talkin’ about settlin’ down on the coast, there,” Cass said, and Tulip laughed.</p><p>“<em>You</em> want to go play house? Come on.” She looked between Cassidy and me as his cheeks reddened. “You’ll get sick of it after a week!”</p><p>Cassidy’s blush deepened. “I don’ think I will, actually,” he said firmly. She scoffed and shot up from the creeper, so quickly that it tilted and dumped me to the floor.</p><p>“Fine. While Jesus ‘n me are out runnin’ the roads, having a <em>great time</em>, you two go pay stupid bills and work stupid jobs and…and…join a homeowners association!” She stalked from the garage without another word, slamming the door behind her. We stared after her, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, until at last Cass took my hand, squeezing reassuringly.</p><p>“Well. That coulda gone worse, I s’pose.”</p><p>~~~~</p><p>I turned the boarding passes over and over in my hands, trying to summon a spark of excitement at the idea of going home—of <em>making</em> a home. I was sure there was excitement there, <em>somewhere</em>, under the guilt. Guilt over leaving Tulip, guilt over assuring Kamal he could add the price of the tickets to Jesse’s growing tab, guilt over dragging Cassidy into a domestic life he didn’t want and away from the adventures that he did.</p><p>I caught him watching me, his expression in the bathroom mirror twisted in concern. He’d shaved away the scruffy growth from Masada and was bare-faced again, and had subdued his curls into the sleek pompadour he wore in his passport photo, complete with the single ringlet falling across his forehead.</p><p>“She’ll come ‘round, Juniper. Don’ worry yer head,” he said, and I envied his confidence.</p><p>“I mean…yeah, <em>probably</em>, but before morning?” I held up the tickets—our flight was scheduled to leave at 9:35; between travel time to the airport and getting through security we’d have to leave no later than 7:00. “I’m pretty sure Tulip can hold a grudge for more than fourteen hours. Maybe we should wait, stay with her and Jesus, just for a bit…” He joined me on the bed and I promptly ruffled his hair, destroying his careful work and earning a playful glare.</p><p>“Lissen, yeh can’t make all yer life decisions around what keeps Tulip O’Hare happy. Yeh’ve followed me an’ Jess an’ Tulip all over th’ goddamn world, an’ now if yeh want t’ settle down I think yeh’ve damn well earned it, right?” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and I swung my legs over his thigh so he could scoop me into his lap.</p><p>“I know. I just wish it was a little easier.” I rested my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes as he rubbed my back in slow, soothing circles.</p><p>“She’ll come ‘round, like I said. Might take a bit, but we’ll hear from her down th’ road. Bet on it.” He kissed my forehead lightly and I nodded. “What d’yeh wanna do first when we get t’ Seattle?”</p><p>I squinted at him, and he grinned—I knew he was just trying to distract me, and he knew I knew. “Straight to the coast, I think. Hit the ground and just keep rolling west til we hit the Pacific.”</p><p>“Not even stoppin’ t’ sample the meth? West coast meth’s like th’ Dom Perignon of amphetamines.” I drew back to stare suspiciously, expecting him to laugh, but his face was earnest.</p><p>“I didn’t realize you were still…using stuff,” I said hesitantly.</p><p>“Well, not <em>recently</em>. Not since Dennis’ place. ‘Less yeh count numberer. Or the elephant tranquilizers.” I sighed softly, raising my eyes to the ceiling. “But yeh wouldn’ go t’ France an’ not try th’ cheese, d’yeh know what I mean?”</p><p>“I think…I think if we’re gonna live together I would <em>really</em> like it if you at least stayed away from harder stuff?” My voice was questioning; I peered into his face anxiously as he chewed over my request.</p><p>“No recreational use,” he said finally. “Scout’s honor.” I smiled, but he held up a finger. “<em>But</em>, if it comes down to it, an’ I’m not sayin’ it will, but if I start t’ gettin’ bloodlusty I’m gonna do what needs doin’ t’ be safe. ‘Specially ‘round you.”</p><p>“Fair deal,” I said, and we shook on it. I relaxed against him again, tucking my forehead against the soft angle where his neck met his shoulder. “I love you, Cass. I’m glad we’re doing this together.”</p><p>“Me too, <em>mo grá</em>,” he said, and I nuzzled closer, nipping his skin and thrilling as I felt his cock twitch under me. His hand slid up my thigh and his fingers brushed over the thin fabric that covered my mound; I gasped softly and bit him again, grabbing a fist full of the hair at the crown of his head.</p><p>The door clicked open and Tulip’s face appeared, her face uncharacteristically uncertain. Our eyes met across the back of Cassidy’s neck, and I hastily extracted my teeth from his skin, and felt his hand withdraw back down to my knee.</p><p>“Am I interruptin’?” Tulip asked with a sly smile, and I blushed—I moved to slide off Cassidy’s lap but he held me firmly in place, and I puzzled as to why until I felt the answer throb against my rear.</p><p>“No, come on in,” I said, and she did, dropping onto the bed next to us and crossing her legs neatly. She carried a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses in one hand, and a bottle of whiskey in the other. She set the tequila and glasses on the nightstand, but held the whiskey out to Cass. “Bushmills?” I noted with surprise. “I thought Kamal didn’t have any.”</p><p>“He don’t,” Tulip replied smugly. “It was supposed to go with the welcome home party.”</p><p>Cassidy took the bottle, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Well, we got th’ spirits, an’ th’ balloons. I’d say we’re well set.”</p><p>Tulip poured two shots and swallowed them both, wrinkling her nose. She seemed to want to speak, but by the look on her face the words were burning more than the alcohol. “Back in the garage, that wasn’t about <em>you</em>,” she finally ground out, and my eyebrows shot up. “I guess I’m still just a little tender about Jesse leavin’. If you guys wanna go join a home owners association you should go do it.” She glared furiously at the far wall in stormy silence. </p><p>I slipped off of Cassidy’s lap to hug her tightly. “Thanks, Tulip. I really appreciate you saying that.”</p><p>“Yeah, <em>whatever,</em>” she replied, but she returned the hug. “It’s gonna be different without either of you on the road,” she added, and Cassidy wrapped his long arms around both of us.</p><p>“We’re gonna miss you too, Tulip,” he said and she scoffed, though she let the hug continue for a moment before she shook us off. She poured two more shots of the tequila, but this time she offered me one and I took it. I coughed and spluttered as it went down, as usual, and she laughed at me.</p><p>“I know I said it before, but it’s not about wanting to leave you behind. You know that, right?” I asked, searching her face. She shrugged. “It’s not! And if I thought you’d be happy living in one place, I’d drag you with us!” At that the corners of her mouth twitched up, and I squeezed her hand. “Come visit, okay? Any time.”</p><p>“Yeah, we’ll see,” she allowed. “And you two call me when you get bored, wanna rob a bank or somethin’.”</p><p>“Done,” I said, grinning. We were silent for a few minutes then, Cass and Tulip drinking steadily and me rolling my shot glass between my palms.</p><p>“Tulip ever tell yeh how we met?” Cass asked suddenly, and Tulip glared.</p><p>“I <em>said</em> I was sorry!” she snapped, and he grinned. I raised my eyebrows, my curiosity piqued.</p><p>“She t’rew me out a second story window,” Cass said, his grin widening. “T’ought she killed me, I had a piece o’ glass like a meat cleaver stickin’ out here.” He pointed to the side of his neck, the skin there smooth an unblemished.</p><p>“The goddamned glass gets bigger every time you tell it,” Tulip muttered, but her eyes were warm with amusement, crinkled at the corners.</p><p>“Why’d you throw him out a window?!” I demanded. “What’d he do?!”</p><p>Tulip laughed, and Cassidy spluttered, his face indignant. “Now wait jus’ a second, yeh’re jus’ gonna <em>assume</em> I did somethin’ t’ warrant bein’ t’rown out a window?!”</p><p>“Cass, back then I would have <em>loved</em> to throw you out a window. So, what’d he do?” I turned back to Tulip eagerly. She was still laughing and had to wipe her eyes before she could answer.</p><p>“He didn’t do <em>shit!</em> I got the wrong room!” I burst out laughing, and Tulip grinned. “So I’m <em>freakin’</em> out, thinking I just murdered some guy, and do you think he explains to me that he’s not dyin’?” Cassidy laughed at the memory as I pursed my lips in mock thought, but before either of us could answer Tulip continued. “<em>No!</em> He pulls some dyin’ man’s last wish bullshit and gets me to kiss him! Then ditches me in the ER to go and steal blood!”</p><p>“Okay, okay, I <em>am</em> sorry about th’ stolen kiss,” Cass said soberly, but his lips twitched as Tulip glared.</p><p>“No you <em>ain’t</em>,” she said, and he laughed. “What about you two?” She abandoned her shot glass and swigged from the tequila bottle, watching us speculatively.</p><p>Cass jumped in before I could start. “Well, we met th’ same night I met Jess. I’d met this nice…well, this fella down to the pub there, the, uh…” He tapped the center of his forehead as he tried to remember.</p><p>“Frontier Bar,” Tulip supplied, and he snapped his fingers.</p><p>“That’s th’ one! So anyways, I met Jess at th’ pub, an’ we got arrested—t’rough no fault o’ my own, mind! Well, when I got out I t’ought I’d go’n see if he’d a spot I could crash, but when I got t’ere he was laid out on the altar, like. So I go in t’ check on ‘im an’ in comes this tiny slip of a t’ing—” He grinned at me, and I scowled ferociously, “—makin’ threats on my life wi’ no proof o’ wrongdoin’ whatsoever!” Tulip turned her eyes to me, curious and very familiar with Cassidy’s love of hyperbole.</p><p>“You were looming over him! You looked <em>ominous!</em>” I protested, and he laughed.</p><p>“Everyt’in’ looks like loomin’ t’yeh when yeh’re, what, four-ten?” he teased, and I swatted him. “D’yeh t’ink we woulda ended up friends if it weren’t fer those angel blokes tryin’ t’ do Jesse an’ me?” he asked suddenly, his head tilted.</p><p>I squinted at him as I considered. “Almost definitely not,” I finally decided, and he grinned. “Would you two have, if Tulip hadn’t thrown you out a window?”</p><p>“Nope,” Tulip replied immediately, and I snorted.</p><p>“D’yeh know some people make friends wit’ no violence or maimin’ involved whatsoever?” Cass asked, and Tulip and I exchanged grins.</p><p>“Boring,” Tulip said.</p><p>“I think you’ve been misled,” I added, and we laughed.</p><p>We talked until late in the night, long after the Bushmills had gone, and then Cassidy and Tulip finished the tequila, and then he padded out to the bar and returned with a bottle of the black-labeled Israeli whiskey. I lay curled in a ball on the bed watching them chat and laugh, my heart completely full of all-encompassing warmth for both of them.</p><p>Tulip glanced at me as I was yawning immensely, and smiled. “You goin’ to sleep?”</p><p>“No,” I said as another yawn cracked my jaw. “It’s okay. I can sleep on the plane.”</p><p>“Right.” She lowered her eyes, her expression suddenly melancholy. “What time’s the flight?”</p><p>“Nine…somethin’,” Cass supplied, and she nodded.</p><p>“Y’all want a ride? Me and Jesus could drop you off, before we head out.” I exchanged a glance with Cassidy, unsure, and he shrugged a shoulder.</p><p>“That would be really nice, Tulip, thanks,” I said, taking her hand gently. She pulled away and stood, her eyes still downcast.</p><p>“I’m gonna let y’all get some rest, then,” she said, but I lunged for her hand again.</p><p>“Stay. Don’t go and be alone,” I requested, pleading in my tipsy state.</p><p>“You gotta sleep,” she argued, trying half-heartedly to pull away.</p><p>“Stay and sleep with us,” I said, then flushed as her eyebrows rose. “Just sleep. I’m gonna miss you. Please?” She considered a moment longer, then shed her jeans and slid into the bed beside me. I squeaked happily and curled against her, spooning her, rubbing my forehead against the warm, soft space between her shoulder blades.</p><p>“Are you always a cuddly drunk?” she asked, and laughed when I nodded against her back. I felt Cassidy’s warm weight behind me a moment later; he snaked one arm under the pillows and the other he wrapped around the both of us, pulling us closer to him in the tiny bed. My hand found Tulip’s in the dark and I entwined our fingers, then sighed happily when Cassidy’s hand closed over mine.</p><p>“Thank you, Tulip,” I murmured. If she replied I didn’t hear it; I was already drifting way.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>The three of us sat  across the Chevelle’s front seat, and Jesus was silent in the back. I still held Tulip’s hand, resting lightly on her thigh, and Cassidy’s arm stretched across the back of the seat, warm against my shoulders. For the first time since I’d known her Tulip was driving the speed limit; the Chevelle’s engine was a steady purr, rather than the snarl I was accustomed to. My stomach clenched and roiled and my head ached, and I couldn’t tell how much of it was my hangover and how much was our impending goodbye. I squeezed her hand hard at the thought of it, and she returned the pressure.</p><p>Jerusalem grew steadily larger ahead of us, emerging taller and taller from the landscape that was tinted Martian-red through the sunglasses I’d borrowed from Cassidy. I groped for his hand too, and he kissed my knuckles lightly.</p><p>“Are you <em>sure</em> you don’t wanna come with us?” I tried again, though we’d already been through this.</p><p>“Are you kiddin’? We’re less than a day’s drive from the pyramids! <em>Y’all</em>’re the ones missin’ out.” She squeezed my hand again and I sighed heavily, my throat aching.</p><p>It felt like only moments later that we pulled into the shade of the Atarot Airport’s passenger drop-off. We were running late, but I felt rooted to the seat. I handed Cass his sunglasses, squinting at the spike of pain the light sent through my head, and leaned forward to catch Tulip’s eyes.</p><p>“You’ll visit, though? Promise.” She rolled her eyes, but her smile was warm.</p><p>“First thing, next time I’m in the States,” she promised, and I hugged her tightly. Again I felt Cassidy’s arms wrap around the two of us, and his cheek rested against the crown of my head. This time Tulip didn’t shake us off, and I swallowed hard and pressed my face against her shoulder.</p><p>“I’m gonna miss you so much, Tulip.” My voice was muffled against her shirt, but I felt her lips brush my temple lightly.</p><p>“I know. Me too.” Now she did pull away, and I wiped my eyes hastily, sniffling. “Hey, I got somethin’ for you.” She leaned across me to dig through the glove compartment for a moment and produced a thick roll of cash—the uppermost bill was a hundred, and my lips parted in shock. “From way back when. The Bank of the Bayou.”</p><p>I could only gape, but Cassidy plucked the money from between her fingers and pocketed it. “Thank yeh, Tulip. It’s much appreciated.”</p><p>“Ah, it’s nothin’ much. Plenty more where it came from, and from banks with money I can actually use here.” She grinned mischievously, her eyes dancing with the idea of new and exciting banks to rob. “You two take care of each other.”</p><p>“’Course we will. An’ <em>you</em>—” Jesus jumped; he’d been staring out the window, enraptured by the flood of people coming and going. “Lissen, if yeh let anythin’ happen to our girl here, I’ll make crucifixion feel like a mornin’ stroll t’rough th’ wildflower meadow, yeh get me?” His eyes gleamed with good humor behind his aviators, but his face was serious, and Jesus flinched as he thrust his hand over the seat. “Was good meetin’ yeh,” he said, and Jesus tentatively reached to shake his hand.  </p><p>“Yeah, it was nice to meet you,” I added, flashing him a shaky smile. I hugged Tulip one more time, and she laughed.</p><p>“Get outta here! You’re gonna miss your plane,” she said, and I gave her one last tight squeeze before I got out of the car, hauling my bag from the trunk. Cassidy took it—he was empty-handed, with nothing but the single outfit pieced together from the Holy Bar and Grail’s lost and found and the passport Tulip had given him.</p><p>We stepped through the doors of the airport together, and I didn’t let myself look back. Again the blasting air conditioning made me shiver, and Cass unwound the long, gauzy black and grey scarf he wore and draped it over my shoulders; I smiled up at him gratefully and he kissed the top of my head lightly. With no bags to check we made straight for security, and as I dug out my passport I found myself halfway hoping that they’d know somehow, that they’d turn us away and we could catch up with Tulip and ride with her to see the pyramids, to see all of Africa if that’s what she wanted.</p><p>But the security guard was bored, and sleepy, and gave our boarding passes and passports only the most cursory of glances before waving us through. Now I allowed myself to look back, but of course the Chevelle was long gone, and Tulip with it. I sighed heavily, and Cassidy stopped a few steps ahead, stretching his hand back to me.</p><p>“Yeh ready, <em>mo grá?</em>” I allowed myself another long sigh, and made myself look ahead. Ahead to oceans, and mountains, and giant redwoods, and building a home with the man I loved.</p><p>“I’m ready,” I said, and took his hand.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sixty chapters! I can hardly believe it. This story has become such a huge part of my life, and I love love love knowing that it's making other people smile too.<br/>Thank you so much for reading, and if you have something to say, I'd love to hear it!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0061"><h2>61. All the Time in the World</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cassidy and Juniper touch down in Washington.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Juniper.” Cassidy’s voice was a low, musical murmur in my ear, and I hummed in response, turning my face toward the sound. “Wake up, <em>mo gr</em><em>á</em>. Yeh’re missin’ it.”</p><p>I opened my eyes, gritty with sleep, and he nodded toward the window. The thick forest we flew over now was like an impressionist painting, broad strokes of green and orange and gold rushing by far below but growing closer every moment. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, but I groped blindly until Cassidy found my hand and squeezed it warmly. There was a flash of dark blue and then we were over the city, the buildings seeming to sprout from the ground like a time-lapse video of growing flowers. I finally turned to him as our plane circled over Sea-Tac and he was beaming at me, his eyes warm.</p><p>“Are yeh happy?” he asked, and I nodded eagerly. He leaned closer to stare out the window with me as the ground grew closer, and closer still, the smooth paved runway rushing by beneath us. There was one big bump as we touched down, like the sensation of a fast elevator beginning its descent, and then we were braking hard and taxiing toward the huge maze of an airport. “Bit smoother’n my las’ landin’,” Cassidy said. His eyes were bright with glee and a smile twitched at the corners of his lips, and I squinted suspiciously.</p><p>“You’ve had that ready since Jerusalem, huh?” I asked, and the grin finally burst through, showing all of his gleaming teeth.</p><p>“T’ought th’ wait was gonna be the end o’ me,” he said and I kissed his cheek lightly.</p><p>Restless, irritable energy swept through the plane as it lumbered slowly up to the boarding tunnel, and Cass laughed at me as I fidgeted eagerly in my seat, craning my neck to watch the progress of the unloading first class. At last it was our turn and Cassidy stretched luxuriously as he stood, his fingertips brushing the ceiling and a strip of his belly appearing between the waist of his pants and the hem of his t-shirt. He cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders before digging through the overhead compartment for my duffel bag, ignoring the pointed glares and throat-clearing of the queue of people behind us.</p><p>He hesitated when we reached the wide door, and after a moment I saw why—the tiny gap where the boarding tunnel wasn’t quite flush with the plane, and the thin rays of sunlight that speared through it.</p><p>“Enjoy Washington!” the flight attendant chirped pointedly, and the passengers behind me crowded forward impatiently as Cass shifted from foot to foot. Finally he sighed gustily, resigned, and he squared his shoulders and popped his collar before stepping quickly through the curtain of sunlight to the other side with a muffled grunt and a soft sizzle. I hurried after him and entwined my fingers with his tightly, guilt churning in my stomach.</p><p>“Are you alright? I’m sorry—” I began but he waved away my worry.</p><p>“’S nothin’ t’ trouble yer head about. Jus’ stung a bit,” he assured me, but I could see his ears had gone deep, angry red; like the type of sunburn you can only achieve by falling asleep outside at midday. Remorse surged in me again, and he seemed to sense it and paused in the tunnel to brush his lips over my temple. “Really, Juniper, it’ll heal easy enough,” he said, and I nodded. “Leave it t’ me t’ make it t’rough th’ Middle East unscathed an’ burn meself firs’ t’ing in th’ cloudiest state in the country,” he added, and I laughed and kissed him.</p><p>I gaped as we emerged from the boarding tunnel to the airport proper—it was alive with people. The constantly shifting crowd brought me back to Bourbon Street in New Orleans, but of course none of these people were visibly drunk or topless. Instead they hurried along like industrious ants, single-minded and largely oblivious of the strangers who surrounded them. We followed the signs toward car rentals, dodging segways and golfcarts and grumpy businesspeople who seemed deeply offended by our casual pace.</p><p>My buoyant mood sank as I took in the sign at the first car rental booth—credit or debit payment only, no cash. The next one was the same, and the one after that, and I began to wonder if we’d have to start our new life off in the back of a taxi or on a city bus.</p><p>Cassidy seemed to sense my worry, and gave my shoulders a squeeze. “Wors’ comes t’ wors’, we can always hotwire somethin’,” he said, but I shook my head. I didn’t want to start our new life with car theft—especially with both of us carrying counterfeit passports.</p><p>It wasn’t until we reached the furthest, smallest kiosk that we spotted a sign saying cash was accepted, and I sighed with relief. The clerk was a tired-looking middle aged woman, who snapped her gum as we approached.</p><p>“Driver’s license?” she asked, but her request was more like a sigh. I slid mine across the desk—the real one. “Extra fee for under-twenty-fives,” she droned without looking at me, and Cassidy covered his chuckle with a cough.</p><p>“That’s fine,” I said quickly. I realized I was tapping the counter anxiously and made myself stop.</p><p>“Looking for any features in particular?”</p><p>I pursed my lips for a moment, thinking. “No, thank you.”</p><p>“Tinted windows, if yeh got ‘em,” Cassidy cut in, and one of her eyebrows twitched upward but she didn’t comment. Her nails clacked at the keyboard for a moment and she snapped her gum as she searched. I leaned back against Cassidy’s chest—it seemed any time I wasn’t moving or speaking jetlag was waiting to spring, and my eyes ached with tiredness. He rested his chin on top of my head, and I drifted as we waited.</p><p>“I got a twenty-fifteen Honda Fit. Tinted windows, heated seats, CD player, Bluetooth. Return date?” she tacked on, before I could indicate whether we actually wanted the car. I lifted my chin to look up at Cass, and he shrugged.</p><p>“Uh…a week?” I tried, and she sighed and tapped in the date.</p><p>“One hundred and sixty-eight dollars,” she said, holding out her hand. Cassidy pulled the roll of cash Tulip had given us from his pocket and her eyes bugged as he handed her two bills. “And <em>he </em>isn’t on the paperwork, you’re the only driver, mkay?” She dropped the keys with their numbered tag into my hand, along with the change.</p><p>“Got it. T’anks fer all yer help,” Cass squinted at her nametag, “<em>Jasmine</em>. Take care now.” He flashed her a dazzling smile, the type that still made my heart stutter in my chest. For the first time since our arrival her vibrant red-painted lips curved upward as we walked away.</p><p>I laughed when I saw the car—a tiny hatchback, the roof of which barely cleared my collarbone.</p><p>“Gimme th’ keys,” Cass said, holding out his palm, and I clutched them possessively.</p><p>“But you’re not on the <em>paperwork</em>,” I teased, and he rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Yeh were fallin’ asleep on yer feet in there, I t’ink you wreckin’ us is a tad worse’n me drivin’ wit’out <em>paperwork</em>,” he argued, and I tossed him the keys and circled to climb in the passenger side. I burst into hysterical giggles as he folded his lanky frame into the drivers seat, and he waved his hand at me. “Oh, sod off, yeh bleedin’ leprechaun,” he muttered, and I laughed harder. I peered out the window as he maneuvered through the parking garage, eager for my first glimpse of Seattle proper. When we reached its exit I rolled down my window, craning my neck to feel the cold breeze on my face. “Nort’ or sout’?” Cass asked as we approached the highway, and I flapped my hands excitedly.</p><p>“Oh! Um! North!” I decided quickly, and he swerved into the appropriate lane at the last possible moment—the car he cut off blared their horn, and I laughed as he glared over his aviators at them in the mirror. He kept on through the city, with a constant muttered stream of graceless commentary on other drivers, until we reached another fork in the highway. This time he didn’t have to ask; he swung onto the 518 West and I leaned over the dashboard eagerly, my eyes straining for my first glimpse of blue.</p><p>It was only a few minutes before highway shrank to a four-lane residential road, and now I could smell the salt tang in the air. I saw Cassidy lift his nose as he noticed it, his mouth curling in a gentle smile, and after carefully checking the sun’s position he rolled his window down too, resting his elbow on the frame. The road shrank to a two-lane with single-family homes on each side and Cass kept on, sometimes swinging north or south as the road teed but always finding his westward course again. Eventually we came to a small park with trails leading into the woods, and I was out of the car before it stopped moving. Cassidy followed a moment later, one hand on his umbrella handle and the other deep in his jacket pocket. His face was soft as his eyes met mine, and his step seemed lighter than I’d ever seen it. I took his arm when he caught up and we plunged into the woods together.</p><p>The forest was a shock to the system after Israel. There was dampness everywhere; sunlight filtered through the trees and turned dewdrop-covered moss into emerald fields that glittered as we moved through them. The air itself felt thick, heavy with moisture. Though the fall colors were beginning to take hold, here it was all green; even the rocks and tree trunks were covered in soft, fuzzy growth. The earth under our feet was springy and deep coffee brown, the rich, living soil that’s born of millions of years of leaf litter. I realized I could hear waves crashing on the shore and began to plunge ahead, but Cassidy’s hand on my wrist halted me.</p><p>“Wait,” he murmured. “C’mere.” He towed me in and rested his free hand on my hip and his lips against my forehead, breathing deeply. For a moment I fidgeted impatiently, but then I sank into him, syncing my breathing with his. It was the first time since we’d entered the airport in Jerusalem the morning before that we weren’t surrounded by strangers, the first time we weren’t rushing to catch a plane or grab a snack or find a car, and I felt my shoulders release tension I hadn’t realized I was holding. Cass felt it go, and hummed softly against my skin. “<em>There</em> yeh are. T’ought yeh were getting’ a little hectic on me.”</p><p>“Thank you, Cassidy,” I murmured, and raised my chin to rub my nose against his. I turned my face back toward the roar of the waves, then hesitated. “You’ve really never seen it? In a hundred and nineteen years?”</p><p>“Nah.” He flashed me a smile. “’S not often I get to tick off a <em>first</em> anyt’in’, any more. Though a few more lately, I suppose,” he acknowledged, and I kissed him lightly and linked arms with him again.</p><p>“Are you ready?” I asked, and I made myself wait though I was shaking with excitement. He leaned down to kiss me softly and my trembling eased—for a moment my entire world was the softness of his lips.</p><p>“Whenever you are, <em>mo grá</em>.”</p><p>We pushed on along the trail together, me taking two steps to each one of his. I’d only just begun seeing flashes of steely blue when we burst through the thick treeline onto the beach.</p><p>It was a narrow, pebbly stretch made up of tiny, tide-smoothed stones of every color. We were alone, the nearest people meandering down the shore away from us. Our footsteps were audible over the waves, the rocks grating underfoot as we crossed to the water. I peered down the coastline in each direction; great salt-bleached driftwood skeletons were scattered along its length. Further down the shore I could see where the land’s edge transitioned to steep, rocky cliffs with stubborn, scraggly coniferous trees clinging to their edges. As I squinted out across the water, at the limits of my sight I could see just a shade of land, barely more than a silhouette. So we weren’t at the ocean proper, then—one of Washington’s inlets. As I squinted, I spotted a dark shape against the water. It vanished, only to reappear a moment later to the left. I tugged at Cassidy’s sleeve, pointing with my free hand.</p><p>“Look!” I cried, just as the seal dived again. When I glanced up at Cass he wasn’t following my finger, but staring straight out, his eyes glistening and his mouth set.</p><p>“My God,” he finally choked. “I dunno if I coulda borne it, before, bein’ here.” I didn’t understand, but I pressed close to his side, squeezing him to me. “It looks so much like home.”</p><p>I squeezed him harder, until I drew a soft grunt from him, and then he returned my embrace tenderly, tilting his head to rest his cheek against my hair. “Before…?” I thought I knew, but selfishly wanted to hear him say it.</p><p>“Before…havin’ someone. Havin’ this.” His speech was halting at first, and low, but came smoother as he spoke. “Someone who knows how I am inside, right t’rough, an’ still wants me around. Somethin’ close to a new home, to make the losin’ o’ the first one not hurt so much.”</p><p>I pulled his face to mine, kissing the corner of his mouth first and then his damp salty cheeks. My eyes were welling too, with the aching sweetness of his words. “I love you, Proinsias. Thank you for being here with me.” I was talking about there on the coast, yes, but in that moment his very act of surviving long enough to be with me, of choosing to live and not lose himself, again and again for twelve decades until our paths should meet, felt like a gift.</p><p>He seemed to understand; he brushed his fingertips from my temple to my chin, tilting it up for another sweet kiss that made me feel like floating. “I wouldn’a missed it,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to mine. After a long moment I turned my head, gazing out over the water again. The seal had surfaced again, and now it had a friend. We watched them until they bobbed out of sight, and then I kicked off my shoes and peeled off my socks and waded into the water. It was frigid, and a bone-deep ache began to radiate up my legs with a wave of goosebumps, but I closed my eyes, treasuring it. There was a soft sloshing and a muffled curse behind me, and then the shadow of Cassidy’s umbrella engulfed me. His free arm snaked around my waist, and I leaned against his chest.</p><p>“Where d’yeh wanna go from here?” he asked, and I shrugged.</p><p>“I dunno. This is as far as I got in my plans,” I admitted, and he hummed in amusement.</p><p>“What would yeh say t’ findin’ somewhere t’ sleep an’ some proper food?” he suggested. At the mention of sleep and a real bed my exhaustion came roaring back, and this time I couldn’t shake it.</p><p>“Yes, please.” My voice was small, and his lips brushed my cheekbone before he led me from the water. I didn’t bother with my shoes, letting them dangle from one hand as I stumbled through the woods after Cassidy back to the car. My head began to nod as soon as I’d buckled my seatbelt, and I pinched at the flesh between my thumb and index finger to wake myself. “Are you okay to find a motel?” I asked. I felt guilty asking him to handle the legwork, but he seemed unruffled.</p><p>“’Course I am.” He stretched his arm behind my headrest as he reversed from our parking space, and then brought his hand to rest on the nape of my neck, his thumb stroking the soft skin there. I sighed softly as his touch lulled me. My awareness shrank to a series of flashes of sensation then, as I drowsed heavily.</p><p>The heavy warmth of his hand on my neck still, and his rich voice—<em>No one to talk with, all by myself, No one to walk with, but I’m happy on the shelf…Ain’t misbehavin’, savin’ my love for you…</em></p><p>The thump of a car door, and a glimpse of his back and his umbrella as he disappeared into a motel office.</p><p>The sweeping sensation of being lifted from my seat. For a moment I wriggled against it, until I smelled the warm leather of his jacket and the soft tang of copper and cigarette smoke on his breath.</p><p>“Get th’ door, wouldja?” he murmured against my ear, and I fumbled without opening my eyes until I found the handle and pushed it open. His soft exhale drifted across my face as he deposited me on the bed, and as his arms slid out from under me I lifted my chin, my lips pursed. I heard him chuckle before he kissed me, and I smiled against his mouth before sleep took me again.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>I couldn’t remember where I was. I frowned as I tried to work it out. But Cassidy’s soft snoring filled my ears, and his chest was warm against my back, so it couldn’t be too pressing of a question—though after a moment’s puzzling I remembered. Washington. I’d made it, finally. My stomach roared hollowly, impossible to ignore, and I sat up, my mouth watering at the thought of food—any food.</p><p>There was a pizza box on the nightstand, and I moaned with want as I flipped it open. The half of the pizza that remained was long cold, the cheese stiff and congealed, the pepperoni chewy and the mushrooms shriveled, but in that moment it was the best thing I’d ever tasted. I examined the room as I scarfed it down. A tiny motel suite, identical to pretty well any other in the country, the only clue to its location in the brochures on the nightstand; whale watching, the Space Needle, Pike Place Market. The clock next to the pizza box read 7:43, but with the curtains closed tightly against any invading sunlight I had no idea whether it was morning or evening, and I didn’t dare open them to peek, just in case.</p><p>Cassidy was still asleep when I finally felt full, and I dug through my bag for my phone and charger. The battery icon flashed when I plugged it in, and after a moment of waiting I left it and stripped to get in the shower. I spent the first few minutes with my eyes closed under the stream, letting the scalding water unlock my muscles; still stiff from so much time in airplane seats and then from my long nap. Something living brushed my hip and I gave a short shriek, my eyes flying open.</p><p>Cassidy was there, steam collecting on his skin and making it gleam, his crooked grin apologetic, his fingers still resting against my hip. “Di’n’t mean t’ scare yeh, <em>mo grá</em>,” he said as I caught my breath. I pulled him under the water with me and kissed his collar bone.</p><p>“A warning next time, please,” I said, and brought his hand to my heart to feel it race. His palm slid down to cup my breast, and I felt his cock twitch against my thigh. “How long was I asleep?”</p><p>His face screwed up as he thought. “’Bout sixteen hours, I t’ink? I tried t’ wake yeh when th’ pizza came, but yeh weren’t havin’ it.” His thumb brushed a gentle circle over my nipple, slippery wet, and I gasped softly. Warmth surged between my legs, and it took me a moment to remember the thread of the conversation.</p><p>“I’m sorry you were alone so long,” I said when I was able, and he kissed the tip of my nose.</p><p>“’S alright. Yeh needed it.” He continued his slow circles, smiling when my nipple stiffened under his thumb. I edged closer and kissed him, savoring the softness of his mouth against mine and the hot water washing over both of us. I pressed my hands to his chest, over the magpie’s wings there, and then let them skate down over his stomach to his hipbones. I traced them lightly, and then dipped down into the crease where his thigh met his trunk, smiling as I felt him gasp against my mouth. His hands slid down my body, mirroring the path I’d taken, and slid around to cup my ass, pulling me hard against his growing erection.</p><p>I kissed his chest again and nipped him lightly, smiling at his answering moan. I brushed kisses down his front, my lips sliding over his water-slick skin, and knelt in front of him to run my nose along the fine plane of his hip. His cock bumped against my cheek as I did, and his hand tangled in my hair as I brushed my fingers up and down his thighs.</p><p>“Is this okay?” I asked, raising my eyes to him. His pupils were huge with lust, and there was only the briefest hesitation before he nodded and I took him in my mouth. He growled low in his throat as I did, his fist tightening its hold on my hair. I bobbed along his length, moaning at the feeling of his heavy cock on my tongue, and he gasped softly.</p><p>“<em>Christ, Juniper</em>.” His muttered oath egged me on, and I took him to the hilt again, working my tongue against his length as I did. He leaned heavily on the wall, panting, his eyes closed and brow furrowed, water dripping from his curls to my face. I clung to the back of one thigh, high up, just under his ass, and with my other hand I cupped his balls gently, watching carefully for his reaction. He moaned his approval, emboldening me, and I fondled him, tracing my fingers over the soft skin there. He sighed, soft and keening, and his panting was becoming audible over the stream of water. “Will yeh…will yeh stroke me taint?” he panted, and I found the sensitive spot between his balls and his ass, pressing into it with each bob of my head. He shuddered as I did, his cock throbbing hard in my mouth. “Jaysis. <em>Yes</em>. Jus’ like that…’ His hand convulsed in my hair, deliciously painful, and his hips bucked to meet me as I ran my lips up and down his length. “I’m gonna…Christ, Juniper, I’m gonna—” But it was too late, and he sagged against the wall, groaning as his cum filled my mouth. I swallowed it all and pressed my lips to his shaking thigh.</p><p>He gave me a hand up, kissing me deeply, tasting himself on my lips. His hand was between my legs before we parted and his fingers found my tender, swollen clit without preamble, making me gasp. His other arm wrapped around my ribcage, holding me to him as he kissed the side of my neck and my shoulder, each stroke of his lips bringing a fresh bloom of pleasure across my skin, building on the growing euphoria of his quick circles over my clit. My breaths came hard and fast, and I squirmed against his hand, my feet skidding against the slick floor.</p><p>“Yeh like that?” he growled against my ear, and I nodded. “Tell me how much yeh like it,” he growled. His fingers slowed in their work and I whimpered.</p><p>“I…God, Cass, it’s amazing…you’re amazing,” I managed, and moaned as he found his rhythm again. “You’re so good,” I tried, and a shudder rocked me as he slipped two fingers into me, his thumb taking over against my clit. I thrust myself against his hand; his gentle ‘come hither’ gesture against my g-spot sending me hurtling toward climax. “I love you,” I gasped. “I love you, I love you, I—” My orgasm washed over me then, and Cassidy caught me as my legs buckled, crushing me against him. I shivered and twitched as he slowed his motions and pulled out, and when I could stand again he carefully set me back on my feet.</p><p>We washed then, both of us slow and clumsy, giddy with pleasure. The towels weren’t quite so luxurious as Kamal’s but were fluffy and soft, and when I was dry I stretched full length on the bed again to check my phone. There was a slew of texts and voicemails from my family, ranging from furious to pleading to frantically worried, and I sighed. I texted Rowan once, quickly—<em>I’m safe, I’m with Cass. We’re good</em>—and turned it off again, tossing it back into my bag. The mattress sagged with Cassidy’s weight beside me and his fingertips traced slow, curving lines over my shoulders.</p><p>“I did some plannin’, while yeh were sleepin’,” he said. He sounded uncharacteristically hesitant, as though he was worried I might be annoyed by this. I rolled over in place, so that his fingertips skated over my chest, and caught his hand to kiss his palm.</p><p>“Tell me,” I encouraged him, and his answering smile was sweet.  </p><p>“There’s an island, up th’ coast a ways—Whidbey. We’d have to ferry ‘cross to it, but it’s s’posed t’ be alright fer sight-seein’. Great old cliffs an’ forests an’ islands an’ th’ like. We keep on that way an’ we’ll come t’ Anacortes. Th’ pamphlets said it’s a neat little town, that. Known fer whales.” My excitement grew as he spoke; his words conjuring the places to my mind’s eye as though I’d seen them already. He seemed to mistake my quiet for discontent, and wilted a bit. “’Course, if yeh had somethin’ else in mind, tha’s alright by me.”</p><p>“No!” I sat up quickly and peppered his face with kisses before rubbing my nose against the tip of his. “That sounds amazing, Cassidy. Thank you for planning that all out.”</p><p>The crooked grin crossed his face, and a faint flush rose in his cheeks. “Well, wasn’ as if I were goin’ t’ get any sleep anyways, d’yeh know what I mean? What wit’ yer snorin’.”</p><p>I scoffed as I rose to get dressed. “You’re one to talk. <em>Your</em> snoring sounds like a motorcycle with asthma.” He laughed as he tugged on his clothes—his only clothes, I realized with a flash of guilt; the same ones he’d worn yesterday and for the whole of our trip. “One other stop?” I requested, and he tilted his head. “Let’s get you a new wardrobe, okay?”</p><p>“S’pose we c’n manage it. We got all th’ time in the world,” he said with a smile, and my heart swelled with the truth of his words.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. If you have comments, I'd love to hear them!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0062"><h2>62. Washington</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper and Cassidy start making a life together.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cassidy and I huddled together against the front-most rail of the Whidbey Island Ferry, the autumn breeze chilly in the shade of his umbrella. The Mukilteo lighthouse was shrinking behind us, its bright white outline growing fuzzy with distance. The water was smooth, glittering under a sun that seemed far away in the sky. Seabirds wheeled and dove, chasing the ferry over the water, and the dark heads of harbor seals bobbed by, seeming impossibly tiny from our great height. Ahead, Whidbey Island grew steadily larger, the houses and trees slowly taking form and becoming solid. I shivered with a strong gust of wind, and Cassidy leaned into me.</p><p>“D’yeh wanna go down t’ th’ car?” he asked, raising his voice over the wind that tried to snatch his words away. I shook my head and he slipped behind me, pressing close to my back to share his warmth. I caught his gloved hand and kissed his palm lightly, wishing for his skin rather than the well-worn fabric.</p><p>It was a short ride, and before long the ferry was slowing in preparation for its approach to the Clinton docks. We meandered back down to the car, and I approached the driver’s side.</p><p>“What’re yeh doin’?” Cassidy tilted his head, puzzled.</p><p>“Driving…?” I held my hand out for the keys, but he scoffed.</p><p>“<em>Yeh’re</em> th’ one who wanted t’ see Washington, now how on eart’ would it make sense fer you t’ be watchin’ th’ road instead o’ takin’ in th’ sights? <em>I’m</em> drivin’.” He left no room for argument and folded himself back behind the wheel of the tiny car. I climbed into the passenger seat and leaned in to kiss him enthusiastically, trying to pour all of my gratitude for his presence into one action.</p><p>“You know you’re making this about eight thousand times better than it would be if I were on my own, right?” I asked, and he snorted, a blush rising in his cheeks.</p><p>“Now, stop that,” he muttered as we crept off the ferry, but he was smiling as he said it.</p><p>We passed through the tiny town of Clinton first; touristy shops were interspersed with tiny restaurants that had once been houses, brightly painted and proudly maintained. The tiny two-lane highway quickly plunged into deep forest, massive trees surrounding us on both sides, and I ached to explore them in my wolf’s body. We passed through one more tiny settlement, and then we were in proper wilderness, the trees pressing so close to the road that their branches entwined overhead. Here and there we’d pass a flash of cleared land, usually revealing a log cabin with a few goats or chickens penned outside.</p><p>“Water or wood?” Cassidy asked suddenly, just as he had when we left the airport.</p><p>I froze for a moment, deliberating. “Water!” I finally blurted, and he swung a hard right to exit the highway. Only moments later we emerged from the trees onto an even smaller road that hugged the coastline and were racing along with the deep green of the forest on one side and gentle blue waves on the other. “Jesus, Cassidy, did you memorize the whole map?” I asked, and he smirked and tapped his temple.</p><p>“What d’yeh t’ink I store up here? Dryer lint?”</p><p>“Loathing for The Big Lebowski, mostly,” I teased, but I took his hand in both of mine, squeezing it tightly, hardly able to believe my luck at having him with me.</p><p>“No no, yeh silly t’ing. That I keep in here,” he said, tugging his hand away to slap his chest over his heart, and I laughed. After a while we left the coastal road, plunging back into the deep woods. “D’yeh wanna stop at the Pass, or head straight t’rough?” Cass asked, and I shrugged.</p><p>“I want you to pick. It’s your adventure too,” I said, squeezing his hand again, and he nodded. It was only a short while later that he pulled off the road into a parking lot, and I stretched as I hopped out. Cassidy wound his scarf around his neck and over his forehead this time, leaving the umbrella behind. He didn’t risk a full stretch, but rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck as he got out. I tucked myself under his arm and we stepped out onto the great bridge together. I was immediately spellbound, my eyes drawn to the white water rushing by far below, following its eddies as it flowed past us to surge around the many small islands that dotted the pass. The waters edge didn’t have banks; instead steep rock plunged from the level of the bridge nearly straight down to the sea, with only the most tenacious plant life clinging to the cracks. On the other side, the ocean stretched to the horizon, bright blue and choppy with the autumn wind. The stiff breeze whipped my hair around my head, and Cassidy pulled his scarf more securely around his face.</p><p>We stood in silence for a long while, our fingers entwined. I couldn’t stop staring out over the edge of the bridge—it felt impossible that I could ever tire of looking at it, and I found new appreciation for the saying <em>a feast for the eyes</em>.</p><p>“Do you think Tulip is doing okay?” I asked abruptly. I hoped she was—that she’d gotten to the Pyramids, and the Nile, and was having ever wilder adventures.</p><p>“Are yeh kiddin’? I never met someone wit’ such a gift fer findin’ mischief an’ gettin’ themself out again. She’s fine,” he assured me, and I smiled up at him. A particularly strong gust of wind snatched at his scarf and he caught it just in time, securing it again and holding it under his chin; I frowned up at the sun crossly.</p><p>“Let’s go back to the car,” I said, squeezing his free hand, but he shook his head.</p><p>“No, don’ worry about me. You take in th’ sights as long as yeh want,” he insisted, and I sighed softly. His generosity was going to be the end of him, someday.</p><p>“I’m getting hungry,” I lied. “And there’s still Anacortes to see. And thrifting to do!” He peered down at me, his brow furrowed in suspicion before he gave in, nodding. I took one final long look out over the pass before I followed him back to the parking lot. The wind rocked our car as we crossed the bridge, and I grabbed his thigh, exhilaration peeling my lips from my teeth.</p><p>It was only another fifteen minutes or so before we reached Anacortes, and as I saw the restaurants that lined its downtown streets my stomach began to growl. Cassidy found parking and we ventured onto the main street under the shelter of his umbrella. The buildings were old and packed together, the storefronts fine plate glass and brick. Fancy boutiques were interspersed with souvenir shops and art galleries and book stores and eateries, and I felt I could spend weeks just exploring this single road.</p><p>“Did your research give you any ideas for lunch?” I asked hopefully, but he shook his head.</p><p>“Naw, ‘fraid we’re on our own s’far as that goes,” he said, and ducked into the next restaurant—A’town Bistro. It was small, and crowded with lunching tourists, but not overly so. The host led us to a booth against the front window, where we could watch the people pass by, and I watched with amusement and some concern as Cass stripped off his scarf, gloves, and jacket. He hung his sunglasses over the sweat-damp collar of his shirt, and a sense of <em>rightness</em> filled me when I could see his eyes again. He took my hand across the table; his palm was clammy and very warm.</p><p>“When we go shopping, I’ll get a couple of sweaters so we can crank the AC on the way back, okay?” I brought his knuckles to my lips and he smiled gratefully. The waiter brought us tall glasses of ice water and menus, and Cass drained his in one go, his throat bobbing.</p><p>“Thank yeh fer thinkin’ o’ me, <em>mo grá</em>. ‘S not near so bad as it was back in Israel, though. T’ought I was gonna roast like a Sunday goose.” I squeezed his hand gently and began reading the short list of dishes. “Yeh wanna head back sout’, then?” he asked, and I blinked.</p><p>“Well, I mean…I guess I thought the motel was like. Base of operations?” I explained, and he scoffed.</p><p>“My God, yeh really are new t’ doin’ whatever yeh like, aincha?” he teased, and I blushed. “Do yeh <em>want</em> t’ go back t’ that motel?”</p><p>I bit my lip, considering. “I…guess not? It just didn’t occur to me to do different. But let’s stay here tonight.” Cass nodded approvingly, and then the waiter was back for our orders.</p><p>We stuffed ourselves on seaside fare; garlicky mussels, clam chowder, finely breaded fish and chips. I tried a sip of Cassidy’s drink—an innocuous-looking cocktail called the <em>Adios Johnny </em>that made my mouth pucker and my head swim.</p><p>When we’d finished we walked down the street hand in hand again—the sun was low in the sky now, the buildings shading the street from its glare, so Cass was able to do with just his leather jacket and his scarf for cross-streets. I paused outside a brightly white building with a vibrantly painted red door—the color combination had caught my attention and set my heart racing, but the name above the door—the Red Door Thrift Store—reminded me of the errand I’d requested, and a bell over the door tinkled as we entered.  </p><p>We were greeted by a huge, dark husky who approached waving his tail, but when he caught my scent he went stiff-legged, his head low and a growl rumbling in his chest. I sighed softly and turned to go; Cass was grinning at me, bemused.</p><p>“<em>Matrix! </em>Stop it!” The owner of the voice—and the store, presumably—glared at the dog and he whined apologetically. “I’m so sorry! He must have smelled your dogs! Come on in!” At this Cassidy laughed, and I swatted him lightly and turned again. The store owner was a short young woman with an open, kind face and a long, vibrantly pink pony tail. “Can I help you find anything? We’re having a fill-a-bag sale on clothes right now, bags are ten dollars.” Now that I wasn’t being menaced by the store dog I could take in the racks and racks of clothes and shelves of home goods and knickknacks that filled the store, and felt light with the anticipation of exploring every inch of it.</p><p>“That’s perfect, love, t’ank yeh,” Cass said, flashing her a smile. He snatched us each one of the bags and we started through the store, followed closely by the still-suspicious Matrix. For a while I followed Cass, watching with amusement as he stuffed clothes into the bag seemingly at random without even bothering to check the sizes. After a few minutes I split off, the dog still following warily, and searched through the women’s section until I found some good, thick fleece sweaters and a well-worn black leather jacket. Then I perused the shelves, delighting in the wide assortment; everything from novelty salt and pepper shakers shaped like farm animals to a lava lamp with silvery glitter suspended inside. I felt a powerful urge to fill my bag with adorable household things, and ached for somewhere to put them. Somewhere for me and Cassidy.</p><p>He caught up to me then, his bag bulging, and slipped an arm around my waist. “Yeh find what yeh’re lookin’ fer alright?” he asked, and I kissed the tip of his chin.</p><p>“Yes,” I said, and I meant it.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>It was full dark, and we still wandered the streets of Anacortes. We’d left the touristy part behind; the avenues we walked now weren’t so well lit and colorful but I found them equally charming. I wore my new-to-me jacket, and with Cassidy’s scarf around my neck and his arm around my shoulders I was pleasantly warm.</p><p>“Are you having a good day?” I asked him. “I know it’s not been very exciting…”</p><p>He scoffed, shaking his head. “I’m not gonna die o’ boredom after one day wit’out someone tryin’ t’ kill me, yeh know.”</p><p>“I’ll check in tomorrow, then,” I said, and he snorted.</p><p>He paused a moment later, his head tilted contemplatively, in front of a shabby-looking bar. The sign, lit from above, named it The Juicy Clam, with a borderline-lewd painting of an open oyster underneath. I sighed softly—I wasn’t opposed to getting a drink, but I did wish he’d chosen one of the cuter bars along the main drag.</p><p>“Do yeh like it here, Juniper?” he asked, and I blinked.</p><p>“Y-yes? Like this street in particular?” I was baffled.</p><p>“Th’ city. Th’…” He waved his hands in the air, gesturing vaguely to all that surrounded us. “The <em>area</em>.”</p><p>“Oh! Yes, it’s beautiful here.” I tipped my head back to sniff the sea air. I could hear the rush of the waves in the distance, and high above, between the halos of the street lights, I could see the occasional twinkling star.</p><p>When I finished my contemplation of the <em>area</em> Cassidy was gone, the door of the bar swinging shut behind him. I hurried after; the inside of the bar was marginally better kept than the outside, with an old-fashioned jukebox that radiated colorful light and a pool table in the middle of the floor. The tables were dark wood that displayed their numerous scratches and water-rings proudly in the dim light. It didn’t look like any other out-of-towners had made it this far from the main strip; the few taken tables were populated by grizzled-looking, grey-bearded men who made me think of the fisherman from <em>Jaws.</em></p><p>My searching eyes found Cassidy just as he slapped his palms against the bar, leaning over it eagerly. “I’d like t’ speak t’ th’ man in charge,” he said to the barwoman.</p><p>She raised her eyebrows as she took him in, coolly appraising, her arms crossed over her chest. “You’re looking at her,” she said shortly, and his enthusiasm slipped for just a moment before he squared his shoulders again.</p><p>“Right. Yeh’re lookin’ fer a bartender?” He jerked his thumb at the front window, and now I spotted the hand-lettered sign taped there. “I’m yer man. Cassidy O’Flanahan, atcher service.” He thrust his hand over the bar, and the manager stared at it as if he’d tried to hand her a dead rat. I tucked myself into the nearest booth to watch the interaction curiously.</p><p>“Got a resumé?” she asked, and I leaned forward, propping my chin on my palm.</p><p>“Nope! But—” He slid behind the bar as if he owned it, and the manager’s eyebrows managed to rise still higher, her hands moving to her hips. “Whaddaya like, love? Yeh look like a Long Island Iced Tea type o’ girl, yeah?”</p><p>“Any idiot can make a Long Island,” she said, and he waggled his finger at her.</p><p>“No, no-no. No. That’s where yeh’re wrong. Any eejit can fill a glass wit’ whatever nonsense he’s got lyin’ around an’ <em>call </em>it a Long Island. Me, I make th’ real t’ing.” He took half a moment to acclimate himself, locating all of the necessary ingredients, and then I was spellbound.</p><p>He grabbed a tall shaker and tossed it high with a practiced flick of his wrist. It soared nearly to the ceiling, shining in the dim light, flashing as it spun through the air. He caught it neatly as it descended, and I realized that he’d lined up five liquor bottles along the bar during its short flight. I heard the crunch as he scooped it full of ice, and then the bottles themselves were flying, seeming to float from hand to hand, over his head and behind his back. His expression was finely focused, a tiny line appearing between his eyebrows as he balanced them on his elbow or his palm and even juggled them for a moment, as he added a splash here and a dash there. He didn’t bother with the jigger, measuring by eye and feel alone. One by one the bottles disappeared under the bar again, and he closed the shaker and caught my eye as it rattled, beaming at my stunned expression. He strained the shaker’s contents into a tall glass, and then he added soda and some other ingredient simultaneously, lifting the bottles high in the air and allowing the liquid to pour in long, fine arcs. He finished with a thin lemon slice, placing it neatly over the rim of the glass.</p><p>I finally tore my eyes away from him, turning them back to the bar owner, who seemed to be trying to hide her approval. “What’d you say your name was?” she asked, squinting at him again.</p><p>“Cassidy,” he said, and this time she shook his hand when he offered it. “Cassidy O’Flanahan.”</p><p>“Rose-Marie O’Donaghue,” she introduced herself. His grin widened and he pumped her hand harder. “You got your ServSafe certificate?”</p><p>Cass scoffed, offended. “Do I have my <em>ServSafe. </em>Please, Rose-Marie, do I make drinks like a man wit’ no ServSafe?” he hedged, and she rolled her eyes as I pressed my hand over my mouth to stifle my laughter.</p><p>“Job pays under the table. Minimum wage plus tips. That gonna be a problem?”</p><p>“No problem at all. When d’yeh need me?” He stood tall, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders square—he looked proud, and it was well-earned.  </p><p>“Tomorrow. Shift’s four to midnight, four to two Fridays and Saturdays. Monday and Tuesday off. You got a phone?” At that Cassidy’s smile slipped, and he patted his pockets helplessly—knowing, as I did, that his phone would have been lost when he was taken from the Rosen house.</p><p>“I do!” I piped up, joining them at the bar. Cass smiled down at me gratefully. “And we’re pretty much always together, it should work until he gets a new one.” Rose-Marie’s expression finally warmed as she slid me a pad of sticky notes and a pen. I scribbled down my number and our names—forcing myself to slow and print Cassidy’s fake name—and handed it back. “I’m Juniper.”</p><p>“Good to meetcha, Juniper,” Rose-Marie replied, sticking my phone number to the cash drawer. She turned back to Cassidy, her arms crossed again, looking stern. “Tomorrow. Three o’clock—gotta show you opening and closing deals. Casual dress—I’ll make you a nametag.” Cass was nodding, intent on her face in a way I hadn’t seen before. “And Cassidy?” He raised his chin at his name, his eyebrows twitching up curiously. “I’m trusting you. Don’t fuck me.”</p><p>“I wouldn’ dream of it, love,” he said with a grin. He swallowed down the entirety of the Long Island Iced Tea he’d made and offered me his hand. “’Til t’morrow, then,” he said. He tipped Rose-Marie a little salute and before she could reply we were gone, back out into the chilly night air.</p><p>I leapt on him as soon as the door closed and he caught me in his arms, spinning me in a circle. “Cassidy, that was <em>amazing!</em>” I pressed his face between my hands, kissing him all over. “I can’t believe that worked. I can’t believe you can do that! When did you learn to bartend?” He set me down gently, beaming, his face radiant with pride.</p><p>“D’yeh really t’ink someone wit’ my appreciation fer drink would go a hundred years wit’out pickin’ up a trick here an’ there?” he asked, looping an arm through mine to continue down the street. I stared up at him expectantly, and it was only a few steps before he gave in. “Let’s see…firs’ stint woulda been in th’ t’irties…back then they just called it a ‘fashioned, yeh know,” he added, and I booed loudly as he laughed. “They’d jes’ ended Prohibition, an’ bars were poppin’ up everywhere. Then in th’ fifties I worked a pretty spiffy place, got t’ see a bunch o’ th’ great lounge singers, yeh know; Sinatra, Crosby, Armstrong once…’course at th’ time I didn’ know they were gonna be th’ greats, t’ me they jes’ seemed like a buncha gobshites an’ bad tippers. Got a bit harder after that; <em>mos’</em> places started wantin’ real ID an’ background checks t’ work behind th’ bar. Covered a few bar shifts at the casino though, th’ one I was at jes’ before Annville.” I stopped to kiss him, my fingers entwined at the nape of his neck, feeling superbly honored, as I always did when he shared bits of his past. When the kiss ended I rested my forehead against his, savoring the weight of his large hands on my hips.</p><p>“Cass?” I asked, and he hummed acknowledgement. “Do you actually have a ServSafe certificate?”</p><p>He grinned bashfully, and I raised my eyebrows. “I did! Got it in nineteen fifty-two. Can’t have changed that much, can it?” I laughed and took his hand to keep walking, not caring where or how long it took us to get there.</p><p>We meandered back to the car, taking as much time as we liked, and then drove slowly along the streets of Anacortes until we came upon an ancient-looking inn. I hesitated, but when Cassidy scooped up our shopping bags, I snagged my duffel bag and followed him. Despite the clear age of the outside, the inside was immaculate; the floors shone under soft yellow lighting and the dark wood of the front desk gleamed, polished to a fine sheen. The man behind the desk was perfectly groomed, every hair in place, and his white button-up shirt finely starched. His quick up-and-down glance made me feel shabby, but he greeted us with polite professionalism.</p><p>“Welcome to Seaside Suites. A room for two this evening?” He rested his fingertips on the keyboard, his head tilted attentively and eyes on the screen.</p><p>“Yes please,” I flashed a smile, and he began typing without looking at me.</p><p>“We have an economy room available, they’re great for travelers on a budget,” he suggested mildly, and I felt a flush rise in my cheeks.</p><p>Cassidy snatched a pamphlet from the display on the desk and flipped through it. “We’ll take th’ deluxe suite,” he said, and the clerk’s fingers stuttered on the keyboard.</p><p>“I’m afraid they’re all full. Sir.”</p><p>Cass tented his fingers on the desk and smiled—the one that showed all of his teeth, that sent a chill through me even now. “Th’ executive, then.” My eyebrows shot up in surprise, which I tried to mask. The clerk’s lips pressed into a thin line and he typed again, briefly. I thought I saw him sigh when he’d finished his search.</p><p>“We have an executive suite available, yes. How many nights will you be staying with us?”</p><p>Cassidy and I exchanged looks, and he shrugged a shoulder. “Um…just the one, I think?” I suggested, and Cass nodded. Best to leave room for improvisation.</p><p>“<em>Perfect</em>,” the clerk said, in a tone that suggested the opposite. “We offer a full continental breakfast from six until ten, checkout is at eleven, and we offer a shuttle to the ferry dock every hour on the hour. Your total this evening comes to four hundred and sixty-two dollars.”</p><p>I felt my eyes bug, but Cassidy coolly pulled our roll of cash from his pocket—I was alarmed to see how much it had shrunk already—and laid five hundred-dollar bills on the desk. “Keep th’ change, mate,” he said, flashing that menacing smile again. When the clerk slid our card keys across the table Cassidy snatched them and strode away, and I had to jog to keep up.</p><p>I held my tongue until we reached the elevator, and then I glared. “Why did you <em>do</em> that?!” I demanded. Cassidy looked surprised at my outrage.</p><p>“’Cause he was actin’ like a bloody snob! Yeh saw th’ way he looked at us. An’ his face, after…” He grinned at the memory, but I scowled.</p><p>“We can’t afford to blow money on a…on a pissing contest like that!” The elevator doors dinged open and I stomped out, only to realize that Cassidy had the room number. I crossed my arms, frowning at him severely as I waited.</p><p>He rolled his eyes as he started down the hall. “All <em>right.</em> What if I said I did it because I jes’ found a job an’ wanted t’ treat my sweetheart?”</p><p>I glared at his back, but my frostiness was already beginning to melt away. “…That might be okay,” I grumbled. “But just for the one night!”</p><p>He caught me outside our suite door, his eyes dancing, and grinned down at me. “I promise yeh, t’morrow we’ll find th’ cheapest, shittiest motel in Washington if it makes yeh happy. Mystery stains on th’ sheets, smell o’ smoke all t’rough everythin’, fingernail clippin’s embedded in th’ carpets. Jes’ fer you.”</p><p>“You’re <em>gross</em>,” I protested, laughing. “Bedbugs too?” He lifted my chin gently and kissed me softly.</p><p>“If my lass wants bedbugs, it’s bedbugs she’ll get,” he promised, and I giggled against his mouth.</p><p>He opened the suite door and ushered me inside, and when he turned the lights on I stared. The room was huge—my parents’ house could have fit inside it, with room to spare. The floor was shining laminate designed to look like hardwood, with a dark plush rug in the living area. The couch was overstuffed; the type that you could tell by looking would suck you in and you’d never want to stand up again. A glass door opened onto the balcony, and I could see the lights of Anacortes below, and where they cut off and the ocean began. The bed was king-sized, with throw pillows taking up half its length and a real down duvet, and I kicked off my shoes and dove beneath it, snuggling into the warm, fresh-smelling silky softness.</p><p>Cassidy joined me a moment later, stripped down to his boxers, and I nuzzled against his chest happily, brushing kisses over his skin as he wrapped his arms around me.  </p><p>“What if…” I hesitated, blushing.</p><p>“What if what?” he pressed after a moment.</p><p>“I mean, since you have a job here, what if I looked for apartments tomorrow?” My voice was small, and I hid my face against him, anxious of his answer. His fingers slipped under my shirt, skimming the skin of my back soothingly.</p><p>“Have yeh soured on the bedbug idea already, then?” he asked seriously, and I giggled again. “I t’ink that’s a lovely idea, Juniper.” He kissed my temple lightly, and I wriggled closer against him. “Would yeh wanna come wit’ me t’ work? Could use th’ internet there fer yer lookin’.”</p><p>“Okay,” I agreed, smiling up at him. He shifted onto his back, pulling me to rest my head on his chest, and my fingers went automatically to the Latin tattooed over his ribs, tracing lightly. His arm encircled me warmly, his thumb stroking up and down my arm gently. With his free hand he snatched the room service menu, propping it on his stomach to flip through it one-handed.</p><p>“Are yeh hungry?” he asked, and I shrugged. “No, neither am I, really. But gettin’ a room like this an’ not eatin’ mozza sticks an’ drinkin’ daquiris in bed is a goddamned crime, so I s’pose we’ll have t’ suffer.” He grinned down at me and reached for the phone without waiting for reply.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear if you enjoyed it, and what I can improve if you didn't!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0063"><h2>63. Highs and Lows</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper and Cassidy encounter some speedbumps trying to build their new life.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I awoke enveloped in lavish softness. The pillowtop mattress had shaped itself beautifully to our bodies, and the duvet was a perfect combination of comfortingly heavy without being overly warm. The pillow cradled my cheek, and I rubbed my face drowsily against it, luxuriating in its smoothness.</p><p>The only interruption of the perfect, all-encompassing softness was Cassidy against my back. A slow, sleepy smile curved my lips and I shifted my hips, brushing against him. He moaned in his sleep, his hold on me tightening, and a flood of heat and warmth made me sigh. I rubbed against him again and felt him throb powerfully against me, but he still didn’t wake. As carefully as I could, hoping not to rouse him, I slid my leggings and panties down over my hips and wriggled out of them. I rolled over in his arms, and a warm thrill shot through my body when I saw his eyes still closed; his lips gently puffing with each soft snore.</p><p>Gently, cautiously, I slid his boxers down over his hip, freeing his swollen cock. His snores stuttered for a moment as he sprang free of the fabric, but resumed after two heart-stopping breaths. I slowly hooked one leg over him and whimpered softly as his tip twitched against my slick folds. I thrust my hips forward, taking all of him inside me in one smooth movement, and my eyes fluttered closed as he groaned, his hand finding the soft curve of my ass automatically.</p><p>When I opened my eyes again they met his, hazy with sleep and dark with lust. His smile was lazy and quite content; smug even.</p><p>“Murnin’,” he murmured, and I kissed him sweetly, brushing my fingers through the hair at his temple and then down his stubbly cheek.</p><p>“Hi,” I whispered, rocking against him slowly. He moaned, low and deep, and his grip on my ass tightened. I released a soft squeak as he slid his other arm beneath me and lifted me easily as he rolled; I ended laying on top of him with my legs folded beneath me. I rested my forehead against his chest, ghosting feather-light kisses over his skin, and rolled my hips slowly, feeling every inch of him and gasping with each new sensation.</p><p>“Gettin’ an early—” he cut off with a soft sigh, “—early start this mornin’, are we?” I nipped him, but gently—barely grazing my teeth along his skin and then pulling back to nuzzle my nose against the same spot.</p><p>“Should I have let you sleep?” I murmured, and he grinned crookedly even as his eyes fluttered closed, his brow furrowing with pleasure.</p><p>“Oh, I s’pose this is alright,” he teased. His warm hands slipped under my shirt, stroking my back absently, stuttering each time I rolled my hips up over the head of his cock. “God, Juniper. Yeh’re…” Another moan, his fingers spasming and clenching against my back. “Yeh feel so goddamned <em>good</em>,” he sighed, and I smiled against his skin.</p><p>His hips bucked against me but I maintained my slow, lazy pace, and it was my turn to feel smug as a soft whine slipped between his slightly-parted lips. “Stay with me,” I murmured, cradling his face between my hands, and he nodded, slowing his breaths and his thrusts to match mine. I rested my forehead against his, my eyes closed; the world was reduced to the sound of our quiet panting and the feeling of his cock filling me, the fine and torturous friction of him making me tremble.</p><p>Time seemed to slip away; had we been there for moments or hours? It didn’t matter, didn’t exist in this tiny pocket world that belong to only Cass and me, that was all silky sheets and down duvets and filtered morning light.</p><p>After eons and seconds had passed I felt him begin to shudder, his nails digging into my flesh with the effort of keeping our slow, sedate pace—a delicious pain that made me moan. I pressed my face hard against his chest, my teeth bared, fighting the urge to sink them into his skin, soft whimpers escaping me with each thrust.</p><p>“<em>Oh, fuck.</em>” His whisper was harsh, his breath against my shoulder raised a wave of goosebumps there. I raised my head to watch him; no matter how many times I saw it I never tired of seeing him lose himself in pleasure.</p><p>“Cum for me,” I murmured, and he groaned deeply, his body arching up from the bed and his eyes squeezing shut as he filled me. His hands clenched against my back, his grip bruising and nails biting, and I shuddered along with him, delighted by his ecstasy. When it was over he sank deeply into the mattress, his face serenely relaxed and his arms wrapped warmly around me. I rested my cheek against his chest, deliriously happy but unable to help rolling my hips against his spent cock, desperate for release of the aching pressure at my core. He noticed and chuckled, brushing his lips over my crown.</p><p>He surprised me again, rolling sideways so I landed gracelessly on my side, slipping free of me and leaving me achingly hollow. Before I could protest his fingers replaced his cock, and an undignified, breathless whine left me as he crooked them, the pads of his index and middle fingers finding my g-spot just as his thumb found my clit. I rolled to my back and let my legs fell open and I thrust down against him—he added a third finger and I moaned, low and guttural, nearly a growl.</p><p>“Jesus <em>fuck,</em> Cassidy,” I panted. His cum and my need had left me unbelievably slick, and his movements were near frictionless as I writhed against him. When I managed to force my eyes open he was grinning down at me, his teeth exposed, a thin concentration line creating a divot between his brows. When his eyes met mine he dipped down to press a kiss to my temple.</p><p>“God yeh’re beautiful,” he murmured, and I raised one hand to tangle in his hair, too caught up in ecstasy to answer. His fingers pumped in and out of me, even more delicious than his cock, his circles over my clit a constant, steady hum of pleasure beneath the waves of euphoria that accompanied his thrusts.</p><p>“<em>Ohhh</em>.” The exclamation was formed around a harshly gasped breath. “<em>Please.</em>” <em>Please don’t stop. Never stop, </em>I wanted to say, but the connection between my brain and my mouth seemed to have short circuited.</p><p>He seemed to understand, and he bent to kiss one of my hard, peaked nipples without losing his rhythm.</p><p>And then I was cumming, my hand fisting his hair savagely, my hips thrusting against his hand, fireworks exploding behind my eyes as electric pleasure flooded every nerve in my body. After I could only lay trembling, my eyes squeezed tightly shut, my thighs spasming as he slowed his strokes and at last withdrew from me. He brushed kisses over my chest, my neck, my breasts, and each sent an aftershock through my body and began my shaking anew.</p><p>When I could finally open my eyes I realized that my fingers were still clenched in his hair, but it took several moments before I found the wherewithal to open my fist. When I did he caught my hand and peppered my palm with kisses, his eyes sparkling as he grinned down at me.</p><p>“I t’ink we’re gonna end up missin’ that continental breakfast, <em>mo grá</em>,” he said, and I pulled him to me for another long kiss.</p><p>When our lips parted he curled against me, his head resting on my chest, one arm and one leg thrown across my body. He pressed his ear against my skin, and his finger tapped the rhythm of my heart against my hip. I wrapped my arm around him and combed my fingers through his hair, delighting in the way his soft curls sprang back into shape. My eyes drifted to the clock, and I sighed softly.</p><p>“We should get ready to check out,” I murmured, brushing my lips against the top of his head. He grumbled wordlessly and burrowed further under the duvet, and I laughed. “Nice steamy shower? Brunch and mimosas?” At that he cracked one eye open to glare up at me.</p><p>“<em>Mimosas!</em> Slow down t’ere, Miss Hoity Toity. If we’re gonna be day drinkin’ we’re gonna do it proper.” He rolled out of bed and padded toward the bathroom, scratching his pale belly. “Have y’ever had an Irish coffee?”</p><p>I followed, leaning against the bathroom doorframe to watch as he fiddled with the shower knobs. “Like with Baileys?” I asked, and he scoffed with mock outrage.</p><p>“<em>Baileys</em>, she says. Lord, grant me patience wi’ this one.” He raised his gaze to the ceiling prayerfully, then yelped and laughed as I swatted his naked asscheek. He decided the shower temperature was satisfactory then and when he slipped under the stream I followed. He worked a lather into one of the plush washcloths and pulled me to him to wash my back; my head drooped as the warm pressure soothed me. “For <em>proper</em> Irish coffee yeh use whiskey an’ brown sugar, an’ heavy whipped cream on top,” he explained, and I wrinkled my nose.</p><p>“Can we still be together if I prefer the mimosas?” I asked, teasing, and he hemmed and hawed in mock deliberation.</p><p>“I s’pose we can probably find a way t’ make it work,” he said finally, and I turned to kiss him. Then it was my turn to wash him, treasuring the opportunity to take in the fine lines of his body and the way the ink in his skin seemed to take on a life of its own as his muscles shifted and twitched. When we were both clean I reached around him to turn the water off but he caught my wrist to stop me, and when I glanced up curiously he pulled me against his chest without a word. I rested my cheek against his breastbone and closed my eyes, lulled by the steady rise and fall of his breathing.</p><p>“Everything alright?” I asked after a stretch of silence, and he hummed assent.</p><p>“I jes’ wanna…be here wit’ yeh fer a bit, d’yeh know what I mean?” He sounded tentative, as though he half expected me to scoff at the idea. I flushed, my smile stretching so wide that my cheeks ached, and tightened my hold on him.</p><p>“I know what you mean,” I murmured, and that’s where we stayed until housekeeping was pounding on the door, stridently reminding us that checkout was at eleven and it was now eleven-fifteen, <em>thank you very much.</em></p><p>~~~~</p><p>In the end I did get my mimosa, though Cass grumbled theatrically the entire time I sipped it, along with frittata and waffles with berries. When we’d finished our brunch we wandered to the water and along the shore under Cassidy’s umbrella, my arm looped through his.</p><p>“What time’d yeh say it is?” he asked for the third time in fifteen minutes, and I sighed softly and checked again.</p><p>“It’s one-forty-five, Cass,” I said, squeezing his hand. He glanced back up toward town, gnawing his lip. “You’re nervous, huh?” I tried to keep the teasing out of my tone, but I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips, and he flushed.</p><p>“’S jes’…if it were jes’ fer me I wouldn’ t’ink not’in’ of it, jes’ do it as long as it was fun an’ then fuck off when the mood took me, yeh know? But wit’ you relyin’ on me…I jes’ wanna do right by you, is all.” He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed, and I stretched on my toes to kiss him on the cheek.</p><p>“You’re going to be great. And even if it doesn’t work out, we’ll be okay.” He caught my chin to press his lips to mine, and my hands fisted the collar of his brown leather jacket. “Do you wanna head that way?” I asked, and he nodded. I entwined my fingers with his and we started back up the gently sloped beach.</p><p>The Juicy Clam was empty when we arrived, save two old men in a corner booth and Rose-Marie, whose elbows were propped on the bar as she read a Christopher Pike novel. She glanced up when we entered, and when she checked the time she looked pleasantly surprised. She lifted a finger and held it there while she finished her page, and then tucked the book away under the bar.</p><p>“Hey, Juniper,” she greeted me warmly. “Cassidy. You ready to get started?” She stood from her stool and stretched with her palms against the small of her back.</p><p>“Born ready,” he replied; all trace of nerves seemed to be gone.</p><p>I slid into the nearest booth and Cassidy shed his jacket, revealing the silky, short-sleeved black button-up beneath. A surge of want flooded through me as I took him in under the dim bar lights; his hair was artfully mussed and the shirt and his dark-indigo jeans clung to his long frame. I tucked the feeling away for later and took his jacket from him, immediately pulling it over my shoulders and earning a soft smile. I’d brought my phone, fully charged, and while it booted up I watched Rose-Marie show Cass around. He was studious, attentive, serious in a way I’d rarely seen before.</p><p>There were no more texts from anyone but Rowan—I hoped he’d let them know I was alright and that was enough. He wanted to know where I was, and I wanted to tell him; the hurt of missing my family was like a dull headache that never quite faded. But I couldn’t shake the memory of Cassidy being sent away, and the fear of being kept from him. In the end I sent him a selfie, with Cass in the background, simply captioned ‘work!’. It would do for now.</p><p>My search for apartments yielded dozens of results, and I squinted at Cassidy, trying to imagine what his preference would be. Close to the city, but not <em>in</em> it would be best for both of us, I thought. Maybe a basement apartment, to cut the risk of errant sunlight. A place that allowed pets, so that if I was loud on a full moon it wouldn’t be too suspicious.</p><p>The list of options shrank as I added specifications, and when I was done I scrolled through the selection, shopping. There it was—a two-bedroom, somehow bright and airy looking in the pictures despite being a basement unit, utilities included, pets okay, non-smoking building, at the outskirts of town. I flipped through the pictures and I could see it all coming together. We could hang gauzy colored curtains over the window to stain the sunlight, one of those adorable pastel Kitchen-Aids would fit perfectly just <em>there</em> on the counter, we’d fill the living room with squishy, cozy furniture and we could find a super-soft area rug to dig our toes into…</p><p><em>Credit check required. </em>Shit. I didn’t think I had credit—did you have credit if you’d never had a credit card? A quick search revealed that no, I wouldn’t have a credit score. I gave myself a moment to grieve the perfect little apartment and moved on to the next. It wasn’t quite so spacious, but the dine-in kitchen would be the perfect spot to sip our morning coffee together, and the tub looked nice, and the single bedroom was big…</p><p><em>Credit check required. </em>I frowned and closed that listing too. The kitchen tile had looked dingy anyway. The third had a firepit shared with other tenants, and was close to a park and the library, with an open concept that the ad said made it feel larger than it was. Laundry on site and utilities included again. I held my breath as I scrolled.</p><p><em>Credit check required. </em>Now I growled, and the tip of my finger tapped sharply against the screen as I closed the ad. I pulled Cassidy’s jacket closer around me and slumped forward, resting my chin on my forearm as I continued scrolling listlessly, rapidly losing hope.</p><p>I was in the same position, hours later, when a massive basket of steaming hot fries appeared in front of my face. I lifted my eyes to a grinning Cassidy as he slid into the booth across from me with his own fries, drowned in ketchup, and began stuffing them into his mouth.</p><p>“Hey!” I forced a small smile. “How’s it going?”</p><p>“Better’n over here, looks like.” He paused in his scarfing, wiping grease against his jeans. “Yeh alright?”</p><p>I shrugged, glancing back at my phone screen. “I dunno. Not very much progress.” Inspiration and hope struck me, and I sat up suddenly. “Cass, what’s your credit like?” He only stared at me for a minute, before he cracked a grin. When I didn’t return it, the smile faded.</p><p>“Juniper, I’m usin’ a fake identity,” he said, leaning across the table to speak quietly. “Cassidy O’Flanahan doesn’t exist, so I can’t have credit. Yeh understand?”</p><p>I hesitated, blushing. Embarrassment made me feel hot and prickly all over, but Cass had never laughed at me before, not when it mattered. “I mean…not really? I’ve never had a credit card. My family always just used cash. Daddy thought it was safer.”</p><p>Surprise flickered across his face, but only for a moment. “Smart man, yer Da,” Cass said, and it sounded like he meant it. He tented his fingers on the table and stared at the air above it; he seemed to be struggling to decide how to start. “Well, yer credit is like…When yeh borrow money, the government gives yeh points fer payin’ it back. An’ then landlords check yer score an’ t’ink they can tell whether yeh’re fiscally responsible.”</p><p>“But then I should have a good score, I’ve never had to borrow money at all!” I protested, and Cass shrugged, his palms turned up in a helpless what-can-you-do type of way.</p><p>“Yeh’d think, but they wanna see that yeh’ve borrowed an’ paid it back.” Then he paused, his brow furrowing. “’Course, they knock off points if yeh <em>finish </em>payin’ it back, so maybe tha’s not what they want at all…”</p><p>He’d explained it all kindly, but frustration and humiliation brought a deep flush to my cheeks, and I shrank away from him. “But that’s <em>stupid!</em> And no one ever even <em>told </em>me about it so now what do we do?!”</p><p>He reached across the table to take my hands, and when I tried to yank away he squeezed gently until I gave in. “Well, ‘s not a system that makes much sense. An’ I don’t know a person outside the banks who t’inks it’s a <em>good </em>system<em>.</em>” I glared down at the table, embarrassed tears filling my eyes. “An’ t’eres no shame in not knowin’ a t’ing yeh never needed t’ know until yeh need t’ know it, yeh know what I mean?”</p><p>I took a deep breath, and felt some tension go as he brushed his thumbs over my knuckles. “I know. It’s just frustrating. You’re doing all this for us—” I waved my hand in the direction of the bar, “—and I can’t find us a place to live. I want to be helpful.” He brushed his lips over my hand, and his smile was reassuring.</p><p>“You are helpful. Don’ get too down on yerself over this. We’ll figure somethin’ out.” He wolfed down the rest of his fries and stood, pressing a slightly greasy kiss to my forehead. “Back t’ work. I love yeh.”</p><p>A pleasant thrill still filled me when he spoke the words, and I smiled as I watched him go. The Clam had filled while I searched, and his path back to the bar was slow and wandering as he stopped to chat with the patrons. I turned back to my search—I’d gotten rid of the filters completely now, and just looked for something, <em>anything</em> that didn’t require a credit check. But when I’d reached the end of the long list of options, I was empty-handed. Melancholy filled me again and I rested my chin in my palm, picking at my fries morosely.</p><p>Someone was whistling cheerily, and I frowned severely, stabbing a fry into my ketchup. It didn’t let up, and I raised my eyes, searching for the source to glare. It was Cassidy, his cheeks hollowed and lips pursed, nodding in response to the clientele and filling orders without ever letting up on his happy tune. He caught my eye between pours and crinkly smile lines appeared around his eyes; he twitched his eyebrows up and when my eyes followed his to the speakers I realized he was whistling along with the music. I tilted my head to listen—when I paid attention the lyrics were clear over the steady murmur of the patrons.</p><p>
  <em>Alabama, Arkansas<br/>I do love my ma and pa<br/>Not that way that I do love you</em>
</p><p>I caught Cassidy’s eye again, and he shot me the crooked smile that always felt like it was just for me before he turned his full attention back to his work.</p><p>
  <em>Well, holy moly, me oh my<br/>You're the apple of my eye<br/>Girl, I've never loved one like you</em>
</p><p>Now a pleasant flush rose in my cheeks, my mood lifting as the warm reassurance of the song’s tone washed over me and the tight ball of tension and anxiety in my chest dissolved. I tugged Cassidy’s jacket close again and pulled my knees against my chest, content to watch him.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, home, let me come home<br/>Home is wherever I'm with you<br/>Oh, home, let me come home<br/>Home is wherever I'm with you</em>
</p><p>My eyes welled up and I pressed my face against my knees, embarrassed. I wondered if he’d somehow chosen the song or if it was just perfect happenstance, and couldn’t decide which option I preferred. I lifted my head to watch him as the song played out. He kept his eyes on his work, but in quiet moments I could see his lips twitch as he sang along softly, and I didn’t think I could love him more.</p><p>When it ended the warm feeling stayed, and I couldn’t summon any urgency for the task of apartment hunting. Instead I set aside my phone and watched Cassidy. He had a kind word or a joke or a story for everyone who approached, not in a service worker way but in a way that suggested he truly enjoyed the people he served. He’d listen to their response with his head tilted, his eyes on the speaker’s face even as he poured and measured, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. The patrons, who the day before had been isolated or in pairs at the tiny tables, were crowded up to the bar, nearly every stool taken, and the air filled with their laughter. He <em>shone </em>here, thriving on the energy and socialization and attention, and I swelled with pride. I didn’t think I could ever tire of watching him there.</p><p>The bar emptied slowly, the patrons trickling out into the night one by one, until at last it was just Cass and I. He busied himself with the cleanup and closing duties and I drowsed at my table, my head bobbing, feeling that I should offer to help but too sleepy and cozy under Cassidy’s jacket to do so. I was just working up to it when a soft pair of lips brushed my temple, and I hummed softly and nuzzled into Cassidy’s shoulder. He smelled of beer and whiskey and sweat, and I pressed my face against his shirt to drink it in.</p><p>“You about ready to get some sleep?” he asked, and I nodded against him. I roused myself with an effort and shrugged his jacket off of my shoulders, offering it to him, but he shook his head. “Nah, I’m alright. Th’ cooldown’ll do me good.” I squinted for a moment, but when he still didn’t take the jacket from my outstretched hand I tugged it on—the sleeves extended past my fingertips. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and we left together, Cass pausing to lock the door before we let it swing closed. He leaned heavily on me as we trudged back to the car, and I peered up into his face. He seemed dull, his eyelids sagging, and he yawned mightily as I watched.</p><p>“You okay?” I asked, and he smiled down at me sleepily.</p><p>“Oh, yeah. Jes’ bin a while since I was on me feet fer so long, an’ I t’ought me jaw was gonna fall right off toward the end, there.” Despite his tiredness he grinned, and it was genuine. I pressed closer to his side, taking more of his weight, and he kissed my temple lightly.</p><p>The walk to the car wasn’t far, but it felt long, and Cassidy sighed gratefully when he slid into the driver’s seat. He rested his head against the rest for a moment with his eyes closed, breathing deeply. After a few minutes to collect himself he started the car and then hesitated for a moment, before looking over at me bemusedly.</p><p>“Did we…Did we remember t’ find a place for tonight?” he asked, and I paled in the dark.</p><p>“<em>Shit</em>, Cass, I didn’t even think about it, I’m so sorry!” I scrambled at my pocket and pulled out my phone to search for a place. Dead. Not only could I not find us a place to <em>live</em>, I couldn’t even find us a place to sleep for the night. I tossed the phone into the backseat roughly and tented my fingers over my eyes, willing myself not to cry. “It’s dead. We could go looking? There’s probably something close by…” The task felt impossible at this late hour, and exhausted as I was. I could tell at a glance that Cass felt the same, and I covered my face as guilt swelled in me again.</p><p>“Hey, it’s alright…” Cass began, and at his gentle, soothing tone I couldn’t help a sob.</p><p>“You worked all <em>day </em>for us and I didn’t even think to find us a place to sleep!” I moaned, and glared when I heard him breathe a laugh beside me.</p><p>“Juniper, we <em>got </em>a place t’ sleep,” he said, and I frowned, confused. He gestured at the car around us, and in my overtired, overstressed state I felt tears begin to well.</p><p>“But you deserve somewhere <em>nice</em>,” I protested, and he cradled my cheek in his hand and brushed a kiss over my forehead.</p><p>“’S very nice o’ yeh to say so, but I’ve slept rougher’n this before an’ it never killed me.” When I didn’t look convinced he kissed each of my cheeks lightly. “Truly. ‘S only th’ one night, an’ well find a place firs’ t’ing in th’ mornin’. Alright?”</p><p>I nodded and took a shaky breath. “Okay. I’m really sorry, Cassidy,” I said again, and he shushed me.</p><p>“Don’ think on it. Jes’ try t’ get some sleep, alright?” He reclined his seat, crossing his arms over his chest for warmth. I shrugged out of the jacket and draped it over him, and he smiled at me gratefully. I dragged one of my new-to-me fleece sweaters from our shopping bags and pulled it on—sitting in the chili autumn night had left it freezing cold. My body heat warmed it slowly, and after a few minutes I felt comfortable enough to recline my seat too, curling on my side to face Cassidy. I caught his hand and kissed his palm lightly, and he smiled over at me, already drowsy.</p><p>“I love you. Thank you for being here with me,” I murmured.</p><p>“I wouldn’ wanna be anywhere else,” he assured me with a crooked smile, and I managed a smile before I closed my eyes to try to rest.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading! I hope you loved it!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0064"><h2>64. Blue Bay Motel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cassidy finds a place to stay, and Juniper makes a local friend.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The night passed slowly, in short stints of napping and long periods of staring out the window, watching the few courageous moths who still braved the chill to flutter around the streetlights. True to what he’d told me, Cassidy seemed to sleep straight through, and every time I glanced at him I had to squash a flare of resentment. To distract myself I wondered where he’d been, what he’d been up to that taught him the skill of sleeping so deeply and so easily anywhere he rested his head.</p><p>I finally fell into a deeper sleep as the sky was greying in the east, and when I woke again we were somewhere new. I rubbed my eyes and stretched as well as I could in the tiny car before lurching my seat back into its upright position. We were parked in front of a rundown motel, the siding a ruddy grey and the doors a dull rusty red. There was a flower box hanging from each window, but all were overrun with choking weeds. The ocean sparkled behind me, so that would put the downtown of Anacortes in front of me, behind the building—I thought.</p><p>“Hey, there.” Cassidy was still in the driver’s seat, his eyes red-rimmed despite his apparent deep sleep from the night before.</p><p>“Hi.” A smile tugged at my lips at the sight of him. “Where are we?”</p><p>“’S called th’ Blue Bay Motel. I couldn’ sleep any more once th’ sun came up, figured I’d see if I could find us a spot for th’ next few days.” I caught his hand and kissed his palm before pressing it to my cheek; warm against my chilled skin.</p><p>“Thank you for doing that, Cass.” I nodded at the door in front of our car; a rusted iron number four hung above the peephole. “Is this one ours?”</p><p>“Yeah, tha’s us. Our t’ings’re already inside.” He dropped a metal key attached to a seashell keyring in my hand. “I know ‘s not th’ homemakin’ you were lookin’ for…”</p><p>I cut him off with a kiss. “It’ll have a bed and a roof and you in it. It’s great.” He grinned and pulled his scarf up to shade his face.</p><p>“Would yeh like t’ nap in a real bed fer a bit?” he asked, cracking open his door.</p><p>“<em>God</em>, yes,” I moaned, and I followed his hunched shoulders into our new home.</p><p>The carpet was pale blue, with a path worn over it from hundreds of feet before ours that ran from the door, to the bed, to the tiny kitchenette stocked with a mini-fridge, microwave, toaster and coffeemaker, to the bathroom. The walls had been white once but now were a yellowy, creamy color, and in the corner above the coffeemaker the ceiling had darkened to orange. The bathroom light was garish buzzing fluorescent that made us both look like dead things, accentuating the dark circles under our eyes and the hollows in our cheeks. I flopped down on the bed and its metal frame creaked mightily and thumped against the wall.</p><p>I grinned up at Cassidy mischievously and kneeled on the mattress facing the wall, thrusting my hips to start up a rhythmic thumping and groaning of springs. “It’s just like being back in New Orleans!” He laughed and joined me, sitting cross-legged in front of me and drawing me into his lap to kiss me. His tongue brushed over my lip and I sighed against him softly, opening my mouth to meet his tongue with mine—but then it just kept opening and I yawned hugely. “Sorry,” I muttered, resting my forehead against his, but he shook his head.</p><p>“’S alright. We c’n put a pin in that.” He wrapped his arms around me and lay back on top of the blankets, and I slid onto the bed and curled against him, my head on his chest.</p><p>“Thank you for finding this place,” I murmured, already lulled by the slow tracing of his fingers up and down my arm.</p><p>“Yeh’re more’n welcome, <em>mo grá</em>.” I sighed softly as he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. As I slipped away I thought I heard him singing, so low and slow that I felt it more than I heard it. “<em>Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my Ma an’ Pa, but not the way that I do love you…</em>”</p><p>~~~~</p><p>Cass had wriggled out from under me when I awoke, but he’d taken care to fold the bedding over so that the scratchy top of the comforter enveloped me. I squinted against the afternoon light that spilled through the windows, then scrambled for the curtains in a sudden panic, tangling in the blanket and falling to the floor with a thump before I managed to slam them shut against the sun. When I stood, panting, Cassidy was standing in the bathroom doorway, shirtless, his toothbrush in his mouth. He leaned to spit a mouthful of lather into the sink.</p><p>“Everythin’ alright?” he asked, I and slumped with relief.</p><p>“I woke up to the sun, and I thought that…I thought…I worried.”</p><p>Realization flashed across his face and he smiled reassuringly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Ah. Nah, yeh’d notice if that were t’ happen, believe me.” He laid three shirts out on the bed and considered them, his head tipped to one side. I touched the one on the left—a white linen t-shirt with a navy floral pattern splashed across it, and he tugged it on over his head. The hem just skimmed the waist of his dark jeans, and when he shifted it revealed flashes of his middle.</p><p>“You’re gonna bring home the big tips tonight,” I teased, brushing my fingers over his hip, and he grinned toothily.</p><p>“Are yeh gonna stay at th’ bar fer my shift tonight?” he asked, and I pursed my lips.</p><p>“I think I’m going to explore more of the downtown and then come back here. Does that sound okay?”</p><p>“’Course. Jes’ be safe,” he cautioned, and I raised an eyebrow. For the first time since Masada I tugged at the wolf, sending a ripple of fur over my skin that retreated just as quickly as it had come. “I <em>know</em>, yes, yeh’re very tough, meanest there is. Be safe all th’ same, fer the sake o’ my nerves.” I nodded, and he kissed me. “Were yeh wantin’ t’ leave fer town now? We could walk t’gether partway, if yeh are.”</p><p>“I want to get changed and clean up a bit. Take the car, for the tinted windows.” I stretched on my toes to kiss him, hooking my fingers through his belt loops. “Have a good shift.”</p><p>“Be better wi’ you there,” he said, and I blushed as I watched him tug on his jacket and scarf. “Oh!” He pulled his wallet from his pocket and split what was left of Tulip’s parting gift, handing me half. “’Case yeh see anythin’ yeh like, while yeh’re out,” he explained and I kissed him again before he ducked out the door to the car.</p><p>When I felt human again I stepped out into the thin sunshine and set out to explore. There was a tiny grocery store behind our motel and I started there, filling a cart with essentials, chafing at the limitations of our kitchenette. Our cupboard stocked, I meandered into downtown Anacortes, exploring each of the tiny shops at leisure.</p><p>I found myself again at the Red Door Thrift Store, and the bell overhead tinkled as I slipped inside. Today the dog—Matrix, I remembered—only growled half-heartedly, content with keeping an eye on me from his plush bed by the counter. The owner appeared only moments later with a tote propped against her hip, and began placing newly donated items on the shelves.</p><p>“Oh, hey again!” she greeted me cheerily. “No hubby today?”</p><p>I glowed at her mistake, and couldn’t be bothered to correct her. “No, he’s at work.” I found myself drawn to a glass case of rings, ranging from tiny, intricately twisted things with miniscule gemstones to a massive skull ring with garnets for eyes.</p><p>“Oh, you two are locals?” She sounded surprised. “How come we’ve never met? I’m Michelle.” She shifted the hamper of goods to her left side to offer me her hand, and I shook it.</p><p>“Juniper. I don’t know if we count as locals yet, we’ve only been in town two nights. But that’s the plan.” I thrilled as I said it, and my enthusiasm must have shown on my face because she grinned at me.</p><p>“Well, welcome to the neighborhood! You settling in okay?”</p><p>At that my nose wrinkled; my failure to find us an apartment still stung. “Kind of? We haven’t found a place to live yet, we’re staying over at…” I waved my hand in its direction until the name came back to me. “Blue Bay Motel?”</p><p>“Ah.” Michelle nodded her understanding. “Yeah, I get it. The rent around here is <em>crazy</em>.” Again I opted not to correct her assumption—it was less embarrassing than the truth. “Listen…I’ve been kinda looking for someone to help me out around here. It’d be afternoons and evenings, mostly, just fifteen hours a week or so, more in tourist season.”</p><p>“I hope you find someone,” I said, smiling warmly, and she stared at me for a moment before she burst out laughing, so hard that she had to put down her hamper and Matrix trotted over to check on her.</p><p>“I’m offering you the job, Juniper,” she finally managed, wiping tears from her cheeks.</p><p>I blushed deeply, my eyes widening in surprise. “<em>Oh!</em>” I gasped. “Even though Matrix doesn’t like me?”</p><p>The dog had stationed himself at her side and was watching me warily, but when she rubbed his ears he turned his gaze to her, all adoring eyes and lolling tongue. “Oh, he’s a <em>terrible </em>judge of character. He bit my husband the first time he came over. I’d be more suspicious if he liked you, the stupid thing.” She said it with clear affection in her voice, and by the wagging of his tail it was a frequent nickname.</p><p>“Well then, that would be amazing,” I said, smiling gratefully.</p><p>The next couple of hours became a working interview, and I followed closely behind Michelle as she explained her organization of the merchandise, her system for sorting donations, and how the cash register and POS worked. Matrix followed behind me, the three of us making a ridiculous parade up and down the narrow aisles of the quiet store. By the time the sun was casting long shadows over the street outside I was comfortable running the front counter, and Michelle left Matrix to supervise me as she disappeared to work in the back.</p><p>I locked the door promptly at seven, and scurried to find a piece that had caught my attention during my impromptu training shift: a sign made from a plank of dark live edge wood, sanded to smoothness and protected with fine finish. It was nearly as tall as I was, and read <em>home</em> in large, careful white letters, with a bright leafy wreath painted in place of the ‘o’. I leaned it carefully against the counter and when Michelle emerged from the back, I pulled my cash from my back pocket.</p><p>She scoffed and waved down my outstretched hand. “Just take it.”</p><p>I hesitated, half-convinced this was a test. “…Are you sure?” I asked, eyeing the sign again.</p><p>“Yep! It’s the best part of the job, you get first dibs on everything. Well, second dibs, after me,” she added after a moment, and with a grin.</p><p>“Thank you!” I chirped, and hoisted the sign again—it wasn’t terribly heavy, but it was tall and awkward to carry. “See you tomorrow?”</p><p>“Sure will, three to seven-thirty!” She watched me lug my treasure toward the door, amusement in her eyes. “You want some help with that?”</p><p>“Nope! I got it!” My arms were already complaining, and I was grateful for the brief break when I reached the door and set the sign down to unlock it.</p><p>“Suit yourself,” she said with a grin, and I waved before I stepped out onto the street.</p><p>The walk back to the motel took twice as long as it had that afternoon. I was grateful for the chill in the night air as I trudged along, taking frequent stops to shift my hold and rest. At last I reached our room, and I propped the sign up next to it in the tiny alcove that sheltered our door. I stepped back to admire my work and grinned happily, hoping Cassidy would love it as much as I did.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>Bright headlights lanced through my eyelids, and I squinted against them for a moment before I put together their meaning. I bounced from the bed and opened the door to Cassidy, his hand raised with his key between his thumb and forefinger. I leaped into his arms and buried my face against his chest and he kissed the crown of my head, carrying me back inside to plunk me down on the mattress again. I turned the TV off, silencing a suited late-night talk show host mid-monologue, and turned my attention to him.</p><p>“How was work?” I asked. He sat beside me, unlacing his boots and toeing them off.</p><p>“Good, though a couple o’ lads got into a bit of a dispute over who should be fishin’ where. Nothin’ too rough, though.” He sprawled across the bed with a grateful sigh, and I moved to the floor, taking one of his feet between my hands and rubbing its arch in long strokes. He moaned, flexing his toes, and I smiled. “Where’d th’ sign come from,” he asked, and I wriggled in anticipation.</p><p>“Work,” I said simply, and he propped himself up on his elbows to peer down at me. “I went back to that thrift store, the one with the dog? And the owner offered me a job.” Now my grin stretched so wide that my cheeks ached, and he returned it, his eyes sparkling.</p><p>“Juniper, that’s bloody fantastic! Well done, you.” He pulled me up onto the bed and kissed me enthusiastically, though somewhat clumsily as neither of us could stop smiling. “What’s she got yeh doin’? How many hours? Th’ dog didn’t try t’ eat yeh?”</p><p>I laughed, combing my fingers through the hair at his temples. “No, he was alright today. I think she wants me to do a bit of everything, but mostly cash. And she said only fifteen hours a week or so.”</p><p>“I’m proud o’ yeh,” he said, crushing me against him and rubbing his nose against mine. After one more tight squeeze he slid me gently onto the mattress and stood to shed his shirt and jeans before climbing back into bed with me and pulling my back against his chest. “I gotta go in early t’morrow. Doin’ inventory, checkin’ stock an’ all that.”</p><p>“How early?” I asked, trying not to sound disappointed. I’d grown used to having him close by around the clock; now a few extra hours lost felt like a blow.</p><p>“She asked me t’ere for ten,” he said, and I rolled in his arms to face him.</p><p>“You’re working straight through from ten in the morning until <em>midnight?! </em>Cass, that can’t be <em>legal!</em>”</p><p>He laughed at my outrage. “Juniper, I’m workin’ under th’ table an’ usin’ a fake name. We’re a bit outside the realm of legal here, love.”</p><p>“But…” I began, and he pressed a finger to my lips.</p><p>“I can promise yeh, I bin t’rough worse’n a fourteen-hour work day. An’ it’s Sunday, so next two days’re off.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “’S nice t’ have someone worry over me, though,” he said and I kissed his stubbly chin lightly.</p><p>“Nine o’clock alarm, then?” I asked, reaching for my phone, and he wrinkled his nose as he nodded. I created the alarm, cringing at the message that flashed—<em>alarm set for 6 hours and 14 minutes from now—</em>and curled against his chest again. It was only seconds before his soft snores filled my ears, and my eyelids drooped as his steady breathing lulled me.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>The alarm was piercing, the cheerful tone I’d chosen the night before felt like a mockery. Cass groaned, dragging his pillow over his head for a moment before rolling from the bed and trudging to the bathroom—I heard the shower start a moment later. I stumbled to the kitchenette and filled the coffeemaker, and when he emerged wrapped in a towel I greeted him with a full, steaming mug and a plate of toast and jam.</p><p>“I love yeh <em>very </em>much,” he said as he took them gratefully. We sat on the bed and sipped in companionable silence, slowly coming more alive. When we’d finished and dressed I followed him to the door, trying not to betray how disappointed I was at losing the day with him.</p><p>“I’ll come by after my shift is—” I cut myself off as he opened the door. “What is <em>that?</em>” Rather than our tiny rented Honda Fit, a black behemoth of a Jeep sat in our parking spot, the top of its grill level with my chest.</p><p>“Beautiful, isn’ she?” Cass beamed down at me proudly. “Bought her cheap off one of th’ lads last night. She drives nice, but th’ muffler needs a bit o’ work.”</p><p>I circled the jeep warily as he watched. Tiny scratches pitted its paint, and the wheel wells were flecked with rust. A faded sticker on the rear bumper read <em>My other ride is your daughter</em> and featured two smiling, enthusiastically copulating stick figures. “Where’s the rental?”</p><p>“Parked at work. D’yeh wanna go get it now?” He rose to the balls of his feet, clearly eager to show off the jeep, and I grinned and nodded, taken in by his enthusiasm. He unlocked the jeep and I climbed in—the interior smelled faintly of pot and raw fish, and the seats were dotted with ancient dried stains of unknown origin. I jumped when Cass started the engine—it roared and growled like a bear that had been woken from hibernation and was <em>very </em>unhappy about it. He was right though, it drove smoothly, helped along by his expert handling of the gear shift.</p><p>“You’ll have to teach me to drive manual!” I shouted over the engine, and he placed my hand on the knob under his so I could feel his movements as he shifted gears. The ride was short, and I was almost disappointed when he parked in the Clam’s small lot next to our Fit. It looked absurdly tiny now, like a ride-in toy car for a toddler. “I <em>love </em>it,” I told Cassidy, and he grinned. I leaned into kiss him warmly, and he caught my face between his large hands to deepen it for a moment before I pulled away. “You should get going,” I murmured, pecking him one more time, and he sighed.</p><p>“S’pose I better. I love yeh. Yeh said I’ll see yeh after yer shift?” The hope in his voice warmed me, and I nodded.</p><p>“I’m done at 7:30, and then I’ll be around. I love you.” I moved to hop out of the jeep, but he pulled me close again, his hand warm on the back of my neck.</p><p>“An’ I you,” he murmured with another kiss, and finally let me go.</p><p>The hours before my shift passed painfully slowly; the most interesting thing on TV was <em>Coronation Street,</em> and I couldn’t make myself pay enough attention for it to distract me. I was grateful when enough time had passed to leave for work. The main drag was thick with people, and when I arrived the store was busier than I’d ever seen it. Michelle glanced at the door as the bell above it announced my arrival, and looked relieved to see me. Even Matrix wagged his tail at the sight of me, though he drew back when I slipped behind the counter.</p><p>“You want me to take over here?” I asked, trying to sound game rather than nervous.</p><p>“Yes ma’am. Thank you!” She brushed past me and into the throng, wandering up and down the aisles and chatting with every customer she met, pointing out previously unnoticed wares. I could just see the crown of her highly placed ponytail over the shelves as she rambled through the store.</p><p>The slew of customers kept up until dinner time, and then I leaned heavily against the wall to savor the lull. Michelle spotted me and laughed. “Doin’ alright over there?” she asked, her smile teasing.</p><p>“This is the <em>off</em> season?” I asked incredulously, and she laughed again.</p><p>“Last few nice weekends of the year we always get loads of people up from the city. It’ll die off beginning of October.” I joined her in straightening the shelves, twisting and turning each item until its best side faced out.</p><p>“How long have you owned this place?” I paused over a set of salt and pepper shakers shaped like tiny chicks, charmed.</p><p>“Oh, it’ll be four years next spring. And still going strong!” She lifted her chin proudly, and I couldn’t help but smile.</p><p>We passed the rest of my shift with companionable chatter; Michelle’d lived in Anacortes her whole life, she said, but her husband was an out of towner. Originally he’d wanted her to move to the city (which, to every Anacortes native, explicitly meant Seattle), but she’d flatly refused and told him he could either move up or move on.</p><p>“I’m glad he moved up, then,” I said as I locked the door behind our last customer.</p><p>“Me too,” Michelle replied with a smile, and handed me the broom to start sweeping. Once the drawer was counted and the shop was tidied, I sped to the Clam, eager to check in with Cassidy.</p><p>He flashed me a smile when I entered, but he seemed subdued, flat somehow. He still joked and chatted with the patrons, but today it was only when prompted. To my surprise, Rose-Marie was seated at one of the booths, a new Christopher Pike novel in hand, her lips pressed in a tight line.</p><p>I sat down across from her, and her eyebrows twitched up, but her eyes didn’t leave the pages of her book. I waited to greet her, not wanting to interrupt a pivotal moment, and at last she shut the book with a snap.</p><p>“Your man was late today. For his second shift. Not a good look,” she said before I could speak. I swallowed indignation—if she wanted him on time, she should have scheduled him more than eight measly hours between shifts. But pointing that out wouldn’t help Cassidy and me.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” I said when I felt I could sound genuine. “I thought we left in plenty of time.” I thought back—we’d been cutting it close with the extra kisses in the jeep, but if he <em>had</em> been late it couldn’t have been by more than a couple of minutes. “Did inventory get finished? If it didn’t, I could help…?”</p><p>Now Rose-Marie looked perplexed as well as annoyed. “Inventory? Inventory isn’t done til the end of the month.” She shook her head abruptly, scoffing. “You know what, never mind. Not your problem. Just…tell him to get a phone, for Christ’s sake.” She pushed herself away from the booth, leaving me open-mouthed in her wake. She stopped to speak to a couple of the patrons, greeting them by name, but when Cass waved she pointedly ignored him, her expression frosty. He shot me an exaggerated hangdog look, and I managed a small smile.</p><p>I nibbled at my nails anxiously as I watched him at work, wondering. He <em>had </em>said inventory. I was sure of it. And if it wasn’t for inventory, why would Rose-Marie have needed him here? The bar didn’t even open until noon. Copper filled my mouth—I was bleeding. I staunched it with a napkin, and then tore the napkin to shreds, my stomach twisting itself into impossible knots.</p><p>The minutes crept toward closing time. I thought about leaving and walking to the motel a dozen times, but I didn’t want to face the cold and dark, and I doubted that being alone in our room would feel any better than waiting here. I’d misunderstood, I decided. The long shift today was just…<em>prep</em> for inventory, or Rose-Marie’d had a doctor’s appointment, or something.</p><p>I was feeling nearly normal when Cassidy finished his closing duties and slid in next to me at the booth. His body was sagging, and there were deep rings under his eyes, but he wore a wide grin as he leaned in to kiss my temple.</p><p>“Yeh ready t’ head home? There’s some fruit loops in th’ cupboard callin’ my name,” he said, and I smiled. Hearing his voice, feeling his touch, I was <em>sure</em> I’d just been mistaken about why he’d had such a long shift today.</p><p>“I’m ready.” I hesitated, pulling at a hangnail. “How was inventory?” I tried, keeping my voice neutral. I could see it in my mind’s eye—his brow would furrow in confusion, and if I didn’t elaborate he’d ask what I meant. I’d repeat what he’d told me the night before, about coming in early for inventory. And he’d laugh and explain, and the nagging doubt that tugged at my brain would dissolve as easily as cotton candy on an eager tongue.</p><p>“Oh, inventory was fine. I’ll need t’ look into gettin’ more fingers an’ toes for next time though, I ran out.” He grinned, wiggling his fingers at me before he stood and pulled his jacket on, and I followed him numbly out the door.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you thought!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0065"><h2>65. Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The work of building a life together continues.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I woke early the next morning, and contemplated Cassidy’s peacefully resting face as I sipped my coffee. I couldn’t fathom what would compel him to lie to me. And so easily. Unless it was Rose-Marie who was lying—but why on earth would she do that? I tried to imagine a <em>good </em>reason why Cass would lie to me, but everything that came to mind was disastrous, heartbreaking. He was in some kind of trouble, or was bored here already, or doing drugs. Or was doing drugs <em>because </em>he was so bored here already.</p><p>I set my mug down with a clatter that made Cass grumble in his sleep and yanked my clothes on. I thought about leaving with no explanation, but in the end I couldn’t do that to him. I tapped a pen against the cheap motel stationary, thinking. <em>Gone to the woods,</em> I finally wrote. <em>Be back later. </em>I hesitated, my unease and upset at war with my need for normalcy. <em>Love you</em>, I scrawled at last, and left the note tucked under my phone for him to find.</p><p>The drive to North Cascades National Park wasn’t overly long, but my mind raced the whole way, and by the time I was parked in an empty dirt lot I was desperate to turn off my brain. I tumbled out of the Fit, already tearing at my clothes with fingers that were growing clumsy and short.</p><p>I paused only to memorize the scent of the area—the specific combination of trees that surrounded the lot, the half-eaten sandwich and rotting carrot sticks in the overturned trash can, the stale bear scat that still warned away other predators—and then I let my human mind and worries fade to the background, and the wolf took over.</p><p>The undergrowth whipped against my face and snagged at my fur as my paws pounded the earth. I leapt a moss-covered fallen tree reflexively, clearing it before I even registered it as an obstacle. I smelled running water just before the ground dipped to a fast-flowing creek, and I ducked my head to scoop a mouthful as I splashed through it.</p><p>The air was heady with unfamiliar scents, the trees loud with birdsong that silenced as I passed and started again only moments later. I skirted the territories of wolves and cougars—not fearful, exactly, but not in the mood to test myself. I ran until the sun was low in the sky and then looped back toward the car with my tongue lolling and my lungs burning in my chest. It was only reluctantly that I returned to my human body and concerns, but my mind was clearer and the long run had boosted my mood. As I drove back to Anacortes, first squinting against the setting sun and then into the dark, I felt calm again.  </p><p>Our parking spot was empty when I arrived, the gigantic jeep nowhere to be seen, and I choked a bud of disappointment that sprouted in my gut; there had been a small, childish part of me that hoped to find Cassidy waiting and worried and doting. As my headlights illuminated our door, there was another blow: the beautiful <em>home</em> sign I’d laboriously trundled back from work was gone. I stomped inside and directly to the shower, turning the water as hot as I could stand and then hotter still.</p><p>I was shaken from my stormy contemplation by the roar of the jeep over the thundering water announcing Cassidy’s return, and he poked his head around the shower curtain only moments later. “Alright if I join yeh?” he asked, and I nodded. His face was streaked with something grey, and his hair stuck up at all angles. His hands, when he climbed into the shower, were coated in the same grey <em>stuff</em>; it washed away easily but left gritty stains on the porcelain where it wasn’t immediately rinsed away. He yelped and cursed as the scalding water struck him, and I turned down the temperature a bit, only a little resentful.</p><p>“Where’d yeh get off to today?” he asked after he’d scrubbed the filth from his face, and I shrugged as I shampooed my hair.</p><p>“I drove out to North Cascades and just ran around all day. Exploring. What about you?” He stepped closer when I turned to rinse away my shampoo, his fingers skimming my hips.</p><p>“Did yeh fight any grizzly bears out there?” he asked, his grin mischievous. I noted that he’d ignored my question, but couldn’t summon the energy to call him out on it. Instead I leaned into him, letting him wrap his arms around me and trying to lose myself wholly in the feel of him against me.</p><p>“Didn’t fight any, but got distracted and nearly ran into one’s behind. But he was too slow to catch me.” His soft laughter shook me, and in the echoing shower it seemed to come from all around us.</p><p>“Lucky fer th’ bear,” he murmured, stroking my back, and I hummed with amusement. His broad hands were warm as they rubbed slow circles over my skin and I let myself sink into the feeling of normalcy, relieved.</p><p>“Our sign is gone,” I said suddenly, dull anger flaring in my stomach, and his hands ceased their paths over my back.</p><p>“I saw that,” he said slowly, and then his hands began to move again. “T’ink th’ office has some shite rules about decoratin’, maybe?”</p><p>“<em>Maybe</em>,” I acknowledged. “But then they should just tell us, not <em>steal </em>it! I’m gonna talk to them tomorrow.”</p><p>“<em>No!</em>” he said, so quick and loud that I jumped. “Best not rock th’ boat. We don’t know how long we’ll have t’ stay here, yeh know?” When I pulled back to look at him he smiled apologetically and brushed a kiss across his forehead. “Lissen,” he went on quickly. “We gotta get th’ rental back in th’ next couple o’ days. I was thinkin’, why don’ we take it down t’morrow? Drive down separate, return the car, see a bit o’ th’ city an ride back up t’gether? Wouldja like that?”</p><p>“Not the driving down separate bit, but I guess that’s unavoidable,” I teased, and he grinned. “It sounds nice, Cass. It’s a date.” He reached around me to turn off the water and handed me a towel. I busied myself drying off, and when I glanced up a few minutes later he was staring at me, grinning, his eyes soft. “…What?” I asked self-consciously, touching my hair.</p><p>“Nothin’. I jes’ love yeh,” he said, and I ducked my head, blushing. “We do have a problem, though,” he added, and my heart stuttered in my chest. I tried to swallow my dread—whatever was going on, at least he was <em>talking </em>to me, and we’d fix it together. “We bin in this room fer what, three days now? An’ still haven’t christened it.” His silly smile became predatory, though his eyes maintained their affectionate sparkle as he scooped me against him. He was already hard, pressing against my hip, and want rose in me in response.</p><p>“Where should we start?” I asked, my voice husky. I wrapped a hand around him loosely and teased him with feather-light strokes that made him shudder and growl. In response he scooped his hands under my thighs, and I squeaked as my feet left the floor and he lifted me with no apparent effort at all. He stepped carefully out of the tub, and I pressed my face against his skin, fearing disaster. A moment later he set me lightly down on the bathroom counter, the chipped laminate freezing against my ass after the scalding shower.</p><p>“I t’ink here’s as good a place as any,” he growled, and I gasped as he dipped his head to press a kiss under my ear. His fingers found my slit, and I felt him throb as he groaned. “Ready fer me already?” he asked, his eyebrows raised, and I nodded eagerly. He thrust into me, filling me with his cock, and I hooked my legs over his hips to draw him in even closer.</p><p>“<em>Oh</em>, Cass,” I sighed; my words hitched with each rough thrust. The counter shook beneath me and the mirror bounced against the wall and all I could hope for was <em>more</em>. I clutched at his back—was it slick with water, or sweat?—and bit his chest, hard, drawing a low moan. “I love the way you feel.”</p><p>“I love yeh,” he growled. “I love yeh, an’ I love yer cunt, the way yeh feel inside…” He twisted us sideways suddenly, so the mirror was beside me rather than behind, without missing a thrust. “<em>Look</em> at yeh,” he groaned. “So fuckin’ sexy.” I turned my eyes to the mirror, but couldn’t tear them from his reflection. His fingers gripped my hips tightly, sinking into the flesh there, great bands of muscle standing out in his forearms, the lithe muscles of his upper arms and shoulders flexing rhythmically, causing the ink there to pulse and dance. His jaw was clenched, his head bowed so his damp curls spilled over his forehead, the cords of his neck standing in sharp relief as he growled and thrust. My eyes swept down over his ribs, his back; slick and shining with drops of moisture. His hips moved smoothly, hypnotically back and forth, each pump accompanied by a sharp puff of breath that stirred my hair.</p><p>I brought my hands to his ass to yank him closer, deeper with each thrust, the force of him bruising but still not enough. I skimmed my lips over the runes on his chest, tracing them, and then bit him again, roughly, at the same moment digging my nails into his taut ass to heave him crashing into me. He growled deeply—the low animal growl that echoed from within his chest—and I was weightless, hanging in the air with nothing but Cassidy’s arms supporting me.</p><p>“<em>Do that again</em>,” he ordered. His voice was a guttural rumble, barely recognizable, his eyes dark and wild. I felt a thrill of fear, the giddy kind that only made me want him more, and obeyed. He shuddered as I did, his lips drawn back from his teeth, his cock jumping as he came. He pressed his face against my neck and his breath came sharp and hot against my skin; his jaw jumped as he moaned satisfaction and want both. I was carefully still against him, fascinated and in love and afraid, and synced my breathing with his as it slowed. At last he brushed a single kiss, butterfly light, over the skin of my neck and pulled back to look at me. “Are yeh alright?” He sat me down on the counter again to cradle my face between his hands. “I shouldna let that happen.”</p><p>“Yes.” My voice was a breathy sigh and I blushed and cleared my throat. “Yes, I’m alright.” I kissed the reddening welts across his chest and more heat rose in my cheeks. “I liked it,” I squeaked, and he groaned.</p><p>“Don’ <em>tell </em>me that, yeh’re temptin’ enough as it is,” he said, and then his eyes widened as though he’d said too much and he searched my face anxiously. “I mean, not that I’d—I’d <em>never</em>—”</p><p>I silenced him with a kiss, squeezing him close to me. “It’s alright. I know.” And I did. He kissed my temple and scooped me up again to carry me to our bed, where he laid us down with a creaking of springs. “I thought I didn’t smell good to you, though. You said so, when we were burying the angels.” Now, as it had then, an absurd flare of hurt at the rejection flashed within me. Cassidy hesitated, his eyes on the ceiling, and I took his hand gently, entwining my fingers with his. “I killed and ate a deer for lunch today, Cass. You’re not gonna scare me.” At that he cracked a grin and squeezed my hand gently.</p><p>“Yeh smell…<em>different.</em> Not bad. But I wasn’ gonna tell yeh that <em>then</em>, yeh’d only jes’ begun t’ tolerate me.” He rolled onto his side to face me.</p><p>I knew he expected me to be horrified, disgusted, and perhaps I should have been, but all I could summon was curiosity. “And did I…taste different?” I asked, remembering back to my parents’ house. He raised his eyebrows, but when I held his eyes steadily he sighed, resigned.</p><p>“Yeh taste gamey, like. Yeh know th’ difference between…between beef an’ somethin’ like venison? Yeh’re the venison.” I pursed my lips, nodding, and then rolled to press my back to his chest. His arms encircled me automatically and he nuzzled the back of my neck. “I don’ scare yeh, wit’ talk like that?”</p><p>I clamped down on the reflexive denial that tried to pass my lips, taking time to consider. “It can be…unsettling. But it’s part of being with you, like full moons for me. And I want you to be able to talk to me about vampire stuff.” He squeezed me so tightly my ribs ached, and I felt him smile against my skin.</p><p>“I love yeh, Juniper. Yeh don’ know how much it means, not t’ be hidin’ parts o’ myself, t’ jes’ <em>be </em>an’ not worry that yeh’ll bolt on me.” I entwined our fingers again, lifting his hand to my mouth to brush my lips over it.</p><p>“I love you too. I’m sorry you had to wait so long to have that,” I murmured, rubbing my cheek against his skin.</p><p>“Ah, well. I got it now,” he said, squeezing me again. “An’ I’m not lettin’ it go. Yeh’re stuck with me.” I wriggled back, closer to his chest, and sighed softly.        </p><p>“<em>Good</em>,” I replied emphatically, and he laughed.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>I followed closely behind the jeep in our little rented Fit, absently tracking the lewd stick figures that decorated the bumper, most of my focus on the scenery to each side of the road. The fall colors were coming in fast now, the hillsides bathed in ruddy oranges and yellows that shone gold in the sunlight, and I swelled with gratitude at being here to see it.</p><p>But without Cassidy’s warm and reassuring presence my anxieties crept up on me, so stealthily quiet and sneaky that I didn’t realize I was worrying until they loomed huge at the forefront of my mind and I was nibbling a nail to the quick. Why had Cass lied to me? And where had he been, for those missing hours? I wondered if it was a vampire thing…but he’d never hidden those things from me before, and I couldn’t imagine why he would start now. I remembered Tulip’s harsh words in the garage—<em>you’ll get sick of it after a week!</em>—and my stomach churned. Maybe she’d known him better than he thought. Maybe our time here was up. But why wouldn’t he <em>tell </em>me if he wanted to move on? A nightmare vision seized me: the jeep suddenly veering from the highway, speeding away as he floored it, off to new and better adventures without a homebody like me slowing him down. I snorted at my own nonsense and dismissed it, but even so the nose of the Fit edged closer to Cassidy’s bumper.</p><p>When we’d parked side by side in the SeaTac garage I tripped out of the car and dashed around the jeep to throw myself at him, catching him mid-stretch and crushing the air from his lungs with a low <em>whoof</em>. His arms circled my shoulders as he peered down at me, concerned.</p><p>“Y’alright?” he asked, his eyebrows arching over his sunglasses.</p><p>I pressed my face to his chest, embarrassed by my outburst. “I missed you,” I muttered, and he laughed. I pulled back to search his face intently, my brow furrowing, and his expression sobered. “Are you happy, Proinsias?”</p><p>He softened, as he often did when I used his first name, and brushed his knuckles along my cheek. “O’ course, Juniper,” he said, sounding surprised. When I still held his eyes, he took my face in his hands. “I t’ink this is th’ happiest I’ve bin since 1916. Truly.” Under his touch my nerves receded back to the back of my mind, ready to strike again when I was alone and insecure. For now I beamed up at him, and he smiled warmly down at me, and in that moment in our corner of the oily smelling, loudly echoing parking garage everything was perfect.</p><p>Returning the car took minutes, and then the afternoon stretched out in front of us, free of obligations. We gathered a thick stack of attraction brochures from one of the airport stands and returned to the jeep to study them—I was dismayed to realize that its pot-and-fish smell was beginning to feel <em>homey</em>. I threw my legs over Cassidy’s lap as we narrowed our selection down by process of elimination—too fancy, too boring, too much sun, too many kids—and after a lengthy debate over the final two, we’d decided.</p><p>The outside of the Museum of Pop Culture was truly bizarre; a modern art sculpture dropped in the middle of the city by an immense craftsman. The centerpiece made me think of a purple sequinned top hat, the light lancing off it in all directions; Cass ducked his chin, his eyes squinted against the glare. The two side buildings were reminiscent of fine linen tablecloths that billowed in a summer breeze, though the walls were made of silvery metal. The inside was cool and dim, and surprisingly crowded for midday on a Tuesday.</p><p>I pored over the museum map eagerly while we waited in line for Starbucks, my lips pursed. “Muppet display first?” I asked, shuffling forward as the line moved.</p><p>“Abso<em>lutely </em>not,” Cassidy said emphatically, and I tilted my head. “I hate the goddamn things. Give me the willies.” He shuddered theatrically, and I grinned. “<em>What?!</em> You try watchin’ <em>Dark Crystal</em> on bad acid, an’ tell me how <em>you </em>feel about ‘em after!”</p><p>“Okay, okay!” I returned to him, laughing. “Even Snuffleupagus?” I asked, and he shivered again.</p><p>“<em>Especially </em>him,” Cass said. “Th’ horror film exhibit sounds more our speed, anyhow,” he added with a grin, and once we’d acquired frappucinos with mountains of whipped cream I followed him happily toward the red-lit room. They’d gotten the ambiance just right; soft, somber music followed us wherever we went and the walls were lined with picketed skulls; goosebumps stood out on my arms, the hair standing up on the back of my neck. Cassidy draped his jacked over my shoulders as we paused at a display case with props from <em>Texas Chainsaw Massacre</em>. He pointed at the yellow-handled chainsaw. “Tha’s th’ same one Fiore had fer Jess, is it not?”</p><p>I shrugged, eyeing it and slurping my drink. “I wasn’t really looking for the brand name, you know?”</p><p>“I’m <em>sure </em>it was that one…” Cass muttered as we carried on. We stopped next at a figurine from <em>An American Werewolf in London</em>; a shaggy, brown-haired, roughly dog-shaped creature with wideset eyes and a weirdly piggy snout, and teeth so large that I was sure it wouldn’t have been able to close its mouth.</p><p>“…Insulting. Hurtful.” Cassidy snorted with laughter, and I glared. “I do <em>not </em>look like that!”</p><p>“<em>Sometimes, </em>when yeh’re, ya know, halfway between? Yeh look a <em>little </em>like that,” he said, and I swatted at him with mock outrage.  </p><p>“At least it’s better than the one from <em>Buffy</em>,” I sniffed, and kept walking. Cass shivered as we passed a display case where Gizmo from <em>Gremlins </em>was laid out on his back under a bright spotlight, as if awaiting an autopsy, and I snaked my arm around his waist, pulling him to me. The bulk of the exhibit seemed dedicated to vampire films, and Cassidy jumped when I poked him in the ribs. “Should I be jealous?” I asked him, teasing, but he only shrugged. We stepped into a display of stained-glass windows, each depicting a different scene from <em>Dracula. </em></p><p>Cass paused there, his head tilted, inspecting an image of a pale grey wraith with its fangs deep in a woman’s throat, the blood pouring down her neck and over her breast. “D’yeh know I didn’…know what I was until this movie came out? I t’ought I was jes’ cursed, bein’ punished fer—bein’ punished.”</p><p>I pressed close to his side, following his gaze to the picture. I couldn’t help but compare his experience to my childhood. I didn’t remember a time when I hadn’t known what I was—what the moon meant to us, and why. Some of my earliest memories were of Mama and Daddy coaching me through shifting, encouraging me when it hurt, of tottering after my brothers on too-large paws, learning to interpret the world through sound and smell. I’d always been surrounded by friends and family who knew what I was and shared it and were ready to disappear into the woods on rambling adventures at a moment’s notice. I tried to imagine what it would have been like with all that stripped away, enduring the full moon shifts alone, never sure where I might wake up or who I might hurt while I was out of control. Tears filled my eyes, and I rested my cheek against his shoulder, my arms wrapped around his waist. It would have been so easy for him to lose himself, to give in to the animal part of him inside that lived only to kill and feed.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Proinsias,” I murmured around the stone lodged in my throat. “That must have been very lonely.”</p><p>His cheek came to rest against my hair and I felt him sigh deeply. “Ah, well. ‘S not anymore, an’ that’s what matters, I s’pose.”</p><p>The exhibit lost its appeal after that, and I wondered if it had ever been enjoyable for Cass in the first place. For me the displays were silly, small-minded caricatures. But now everywhere I looked was disheartening dehumanization, and I squeezed his hand tightly, ashamed.</p><p>“Let’s go home,” I said at last, and when he nodded we sped from the exhibit as though we were being chased, drawing amused grins from the other patrons. When we’d climbed into the jeep I caught his hand before he could start it and squeezed it between both of mine. “I love you, Cassidy. You’re the best person I know.”</p><p>“Well that’s a goddamn shame.” He tried for levity but didn’t quite make it, and I pressed his palm to my lips.</p><p>“You <em>are</em>.” I wanted to say more, tell him how he was brave and strong and kind and perfect, but as it was I could feel my throat closing again. I settled for resting my hand over his on the gearshift, my fingers tucked neatly between his, stroking the side of his pinkie as he drove.</p><p>The sun was low over the ocean when we parked outside our room, and I pecked Cassidy’s cheek before rushing inside to shut the curtains against the evening light that filled the room. I turned back to the door expectantly, waiting for Cass to duck through it and slam it behind him, shutting out the sun, but he didn’t. After a few confused moments I poked my head back outside, squinting against the glare, and spotted him—he was chatting with a stranger, another tenant, maybe, his umbrella held to the side to shield himself from the setting sun. The stranger was a stout man with a wind-tangled grey beard and a birds nest of shoulder-length hair barely contained by a beanie; he wore ripped jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbow—his arms were tattooed even more spectacularly than Cassidy’s. I started toward them, smiling, then hesitated.</p><p>Cassidy’s back was to me, but I was able to see when he tugged his wallet from his pocket. He riffled through it briefly and handed the man a few bills, and curiosity tinged with suspicion tickled the back of my mind. They shook hands—one quick pump—and as Cassidy turned back toward our room he spotted me. His eyes widened for just a moment before he grinned widely and joined me, holding the door open for me to duck inside.</p><p>“Who was that?” I only allowed myself to sound mildly curious, but Cassidy’s movements slowed for just a moment, nearly imperceptibly.</p><p>“Oh, that’s jes’ Daryl. Good lad, met him at the Clam,” he explained. He toed his boots off and flopped backwards onto the bed, opening his arms to me. I joined him, only slightly hesitant, and traced the spirals that decorated his upper arm.</p><p>“Aren’t they supposed to pay <em>you?</em>” I asked, gently teasing.</p><p>“Oh, I jes’ lost a bet to him,” Cassidy replied quickly, and I raised my eyebrows.</p><p>“A bet on what?” I tried to recall if I’d ever seen Cass gamble before, and came up with nothing.</p><p>“Penguins,” he blurted, and when I glanced up at him his cheeks were ruddy. “I, er, coulda sworn the buggers lived at th’ North Pole, but Daryl, he knows his flightless birds, as it turns out.” </p><p>“Slippery bastards,” I said with a grin, and Cassidy chuckled.</p><p>“Lissen, I gotta go in early again tomorrow,” he said, and pressed his finger to my lips before I could protest. “I know. ‘S jes’ that Rose-Marie has a doctor’s appointment, an’ apparently th’ las’ week o’ th’ month is when they do a deep clean o’ the bar.”</p><p>“How early is early?” I asked reluctantly, and when he hesitated I sighed heavily.</p><p>“I’ll more’n likely be gone by th’ time yeh wake up,” he muttered quickly, and I sat up, outraged.</p><p>“That is <em>ridiculous! </em>She’s taking advantage of you!” My expression was stormy, my fingers clenched into tight fists, but he only smiled at me.</p><p>“Yeh’re cute when yeh’re mad, ya know that?” he teased, and I glowered. He opened his arms again, and when I only glared he scooped me easily into his lap. “I’m perfectly capable o’ sayin’ no when I need to.” I scoffed at that, but he carried on as though I hadn’t. “But fer now, wit’ me bein’ so new, I’d rather jes’ take my lumps an’ make a good impression, d’yeh know what I mean?”</p><p>I sighed heavily and rested my head on his chest, trying to let go of my resentment. “I understand. I just miss you.” He kissed my forehead and squeezed me closer, and I couldn’t help softening in his arms. “Do you want me to bring you lunch before my shift starts?”</p><p>“…Best not,” he said after a moment. “I get th’ feelin’ Rose-Marie don’t like me gettin’ visitors.”</p><p>“I’m gonna fight her,” I grumbled, and he laughed.</p><p>“Well, don’ do anythin’ debilitatin’, then I’d have to cover <em>all</em> her shifts,” he teased, and I kissed the swell of his adam’s apple.</p><p>“No promises,” I said darkly, and he kissed my temple, his lips curved into a smile. I arranged myself more comfortably in his lap and he stretched to grab the remote, flipping through the channels rapidly until something caught his eye.</p><p>“Yeh seen this one? <em>Pal Joey?</em>” he asked, and he scoffed when I shook my head.</p><p>A familiar face popped onscreen, and I squinted. “Frank Sinatra?” I asked, and Cass nodded. “You really <em>met </em>him?”</p><p>“Yes, an’ he was a bastard. Yeh woulda hated him. Now hush, you.” He brushed his lips over my shoulder, and I curled against him to watch. The movie was cute, sweet in an old-timey sort of way. In spite of myself I found I was rooting for Joey and his nightclub dreams, hoping he’d give up his womanizing to be with Linda. I began to giggle as Rita Hayworth floated around her room, singing her infatuation with Frank Sinatra. “What’re yeh laughin’ at?” Cass asked, and I giggled harder.</p><p>“Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered…it’s me when you showed up in Annville,” I finally managed, and his face split in a wide grin.</p><p>“Were yeh floatin’ around in a silk nightie, as well?” he teased, and I scoffed.</p><p>“Stomping around making threats on your life, more like.” I grinned at the memory, at my all-encompassing fury with him.</p><p>“Ah, so jes’ bothered an’ bewildered, then. Th’ bewitchin’ bit didn’ come ‘til later.” He kissed my temple and then lowered his lips to my ear, singing along softly.</p><p>Later, after the movie, I could still hear his gentle, lilting voice in my head. The song played in my mind over and over, soothing and hypnotic as his soft sleeping breaths tickled the back of my neck.</p><p><em>Couldn’t sleep, and wouldn’t sleep</em><br/>Then love came and told me I shouldn’t sleep<br/>Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered am I…</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0066"><h2>66. The Storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Michelle helps Juniper work up the courage to talk to Cassidy.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cassidy’s side of the bed was empty when I woke, and disappointment swelled in my chest—I’d hoped to at least have coffee with him before his obscenely long shift. I lay still, my eyes closed, and was able to summon the vaguest of memories, thin and watery—the crassly cheerful blaring of my phone alarm, the light of the screen blinding in the dark, Cassidy’s long arm snaking over me to quiet it, and then his lips at my ear, soothing me back to sleep. I rolled over and yanked the blanket around my shoulders, hoping to sleep away a few more of the hours he’d be gone, but I couldn’t quiet my mind enough to doze off. At last I sat up with a huff, flinging the bedding to the foot of the bed.</p><p>I threw open the curtains to let the morning light spill in and shuffled to the coffeemaker, only to find it waiting for me with a fresh filter and grinds and enough water in its small reservoir for a single cup of coffee. One of the generic white mugs rested on the counter already, the sugar and a note beside it. Cassidy’s cursive was tiny and careful, the letters crowded together but with wide chasms separating the words. <em>I miss you already, </em>he’d written. <em>Don’t let one lost day get you down—we have all the time in the world. I love you. Proinsias. </em>I read it over, and then again, and again, and one more time, and then my cheeks began to ache with the force of how widely I was grinning. I pressed the note to my chest for a moment, and then read it once more before I tucked it in my wallet for safekeeping.</p><p>An obscenely bubbly morning show host taught me the ins and outs of having an allergy-friendly Halloween as I sipped my coffee, and then a lisping five-year-old showed off her ability to list every capitol of every state in the US. When I’d swigged the dregs I gave my mug a quick scrub and turned to get dressed, but the light flared against a tiny <em>something </em>on the nightstand, catching my attention. Cassidy’s nametag, I realized as I approached. White plastic, with a glittery shamrock sticker affixed to one corner. I turned it over in my hands for a moment before replacing it and turning to choose clothes.</p><p>I took a long walk along the pebbly beach after I’d dressed, stooping to scoop the occasional smooth stone or shell, only to compare it to the next one that caught my eye and gently replace the one I deemed lesser on the ground. I scanned the sunlit water, hoping to spot the misty spouting of whales, but was almost as pleased to see a pair of otters and a few porpoises, their slick backs shining in the morning sun.</p><p>When I returned to the motel I placed the winning beach find on Cassidy’s nightstand, next to his nametag. The little piece of sea glass shone brightly, staining the wood around it with green light, and I wriggled in anticipation of his reaction.</p><p>I glanced at the clock—still three hours until work—and tried to find something to watch, but daytime TV was just as lacking on the West coast as it was everywhere else. I tried to get invested in an <em>America’s Next Top Model </em>marathon, but Cassidy’s nametag called to me. He’d said no more work visits, but was it really a <em>visit </em>if I was bringing him a crucial part of his uniform? And if I just <em>happened </em>to grab lunch on the way and bring it to him, well that was just saving Rose-Marie the cash loss of feeding him. Right?</p><p>The nametag was in my hand and I was out the door before I’d consciously decided, and I wandered toward the Juicy Clam with my hands in my pockets and my shoulders hunched against the ocean breeze. I pursed my lips as I passed the restaurants along the way, overwhelmed by selection. At the end of the street I doubled back and ducked into Dad’s Diner, and a few minutes later I was on my way again, grinning and clutching a grease-stained brown paper bag containing a massive reuben and a prodigious amount of fries to my chest. Rose-Marie was behind the bar when I arrived, looking significantly cheerier than the last time I’d seen her. She waved as I entered, then jerked her chin at my precious cargo.</p><p>“Whatcha got there?” she asked, and I dug in my pocket and presented Cassidy’s nametag, the little shamrock sticker sparkling in the low light.</p><p>“He forgot it this morning, and I figured as long as I was coming by I could grab lunch,” I explained with a hesitant smile. She stared, and I shifted from foot to foot, wondering if I’d overstepped. “Is Cass in the back, or…?”</p><p>“Juniper…” she began, then hesitated. “Hon—” she tried again, and then sighed heavily. “Cassidy isn’t working today. He called me on Monday, asked for the day off.”</p><p>I blinked. That couldn’t have been right. “He said he had to come in early today? For the monthly deep clean,” I offered weakly, but Rose was already shaking her head.</p><p>“No, no deep clean. He told me he had to <em>take care o’ some t’ings</em>. Exact words.” Her eyes were filled with pity, and I couldn’t meet them anymore. My stomach felt filled with writhing worms. “Do you have a way to contact him? Did he get a phone?”    </p><p>“No phone.” My voice was a whisper. I realized suddenly that the grease from the fries had seeped through to my shirt, and thrust the bag out to arms length, abruptly disgusted by it. “Thanks, Rose-Marie,” I managed, and then bolted for the door, the food still held straight out in front of me.</p><p>“Juniper, wait—” she started, but then the door had closed on her, cutting her off abruptly, and I was speeding down the street. I realized the bag was still clutched in my outstretched hands and I slammed it into a trashcan, scrubbing my palms roughly against my jeans. <em>Why </em>was Cassidy lying? He’d been honest about everything, always—Dennis, drugs, Tulip, what had happened in Masada, his past, the fact that he sometimes <em>literally </em>wanted to murder me, for Christ’s sake. We’d seen each other at our absolute worst and weakest—I’d thought—so why now? What could possibly be worse than all that, so bad that he felt it was beyond what we could handle? <em>Cheating, </em>a voice at the back of my mind hissed, and I shook my head to silence it. <em>Drugs—hard stuff again.</em> I shook my head harder, squinting my eyes shut. Cass wouldn’t go back on a promise like that. If he was struggling, he’d tell me. I was almost sure of it. <em>Murder, </em>the voice decided. <em>He never made promises about that. </em>At that I scoffed aloud—I’d never seen Cassidy harm a single person who hadn’t hurt him first. Even now, in the murky depths of panic and suspicion, I knew that whatever was going on, it wasn’t <em>that. </em>But then what?    </p><p>Michelle jumped as I burst through the door into the shop, and Matrix gave one sharp bark before he recognized me and went quiet. Today he meandered to the entrance to meet me, and his warm, soft fur was a soothing balm under my hand, even after I realized he was only tolerating my touch so he could slurp at the grease stain across the front of my shirt.</p><p>“You’re early…” Michelle said tentatively. “Everything alright?”</p><p>I took a deep, shaky breath and did my best to shove Cass to the back of my mind. “Yeah! I was just…really bored at the motel and thought I could come help out.” My voice sounded strained, slightly hysterical even to me, but Michelle just nodded slowly.</p><p>“Okay! Yeah, if you want to work on stock that would be awesome!” I managed a pasted-on smile that felt more like a grimace and hurried to the back. I found some semblance of quiet as I sorted the items; first into what was worth selling and what wasn’t, and then by category. I avoided Michelle’s eyes as she priced the items that were going to the floor, giving each a quick appraisal before slapping a hand-written price sticker on it. She pretended not to watch me as I lugged my tote full of merchandise around the store, her face curious and concerned, and I pretended not to notice her pretending.</p><p>A crash of shattering ceramic startled me from my fragile peace and I jumped, only just keeping my hold on the heavy tote. A decorative pink plate painted with frolicking kittens lay in pieces at my feet, and I took a deep, shuddering breath before I stooped to scoop up the shards.</p><p>“Everything okay?” Michelle’s voice came from the direction of the cash register.</p><p>“Yes!” My voice cracked, and I bit my cheek savagely before I continued. “Just keep Matrix over there, there’s sharp pieces.” The bits of ceramic doubled, and then blurred so I couldn’t tell them from the pattern of the laminate, and I brushed my palms over the ground to search for stray fragments.</p><p>“I got it.” Michelle was kneeling in front of me, a brush and dustpan in hand. I sat back as she finished the job, trying to level myself out and find calm again. “Do you wanna talk?” The bell over the door tinkled, and I stood to greet the customers with another shaky sigh, brushing my palms against my thighs. “We’re closed!” Michelle called without moving, and I shot the elderly couple an apologetic smile as they retreated, grumbling. She locked the door and flipped the sign and then she was back, tugging me to sit next to her in the sheltered nook behind the counter. “Come on. You’re a disaster. Tell me what’s going on.”</p><p>I scoffed at her blunt assessment, shocked into a grin. “It’s Cassidy. My…boyfriend,” I explained at her blank look.</p><p>Her eyes bugged for a moment before she nodded gentle understanding. “Your husband found out about him,” she said soberly, her voice pitying, and hysterical laughter bubbled from deep within my gut.</p><p>“Nooo,” I drew it out, still hiccupping with the occasional giggle. “Cass and I aren’t married. I just didn’t correct you the other day, I’m sorry.”</p><p>She nodded, blowing out a relieved sigh. “Oh, okay. Good. So what’s going on with…Cassidy?”</p><p>My stomach seemed to crumple in on itself and I hugged my knees to my chest tightly. “He’s been…” I didn’t want to say it; saying it was too real, but I coughed it up anyway. “He’s been <em>lying </em>to me! And he <em>never</em> has before, and I don’t know why he’d start now, and I don’t know what to do about it.” I curled in on myself still more tightly, my nails digging tiny crescents in the flesh of my arms.</p><p>Michelle pursed her lips, tapping her fingertips against the floor. “What’s he been lying about?” she asked finally.</p><p>“Just…work. He keeps saying he has to work when he doesn’t. Twice in a week.” I flushed deeply—when I said it out loud, I knew <em>exactly </em>what it would sound like to a near stranger. I considered telling her about Daryl and the bizarre cash exchange too, but I didn’t know how to explain my concern about it without revealing Cassidy’s history of addiction—not that he exactly kept it secret, but it didn’t feel mine to tell.</p><p>“Have you called him out on it?” She pressed her lips together, seeming to reconsider her phrasing as soon as she’s finished. “I mean, have you asked him what’s going on?”</p><p>I shook my head, my eyes welling again. “What if it’s bad?”</p><p>“Well, then you can tell me so I can kick his ass,” Michelle replied readily, and a surprised laugh burst from my lips. Michelle grinned triumphantly at my reaction. “What if it’s not? Maybe there’s a good reason.”</p><p>“<em>Maybe</em>…” I hedged. I didn’t want to commit myself to confronting him. She bumped her shoulder against mine, unsatisfied.</p><p>“You gotta talk to him. You deserve to know what’s going on,” she said, and I took a deep breath and nodded once.</p><p>“Yeah. Yeah, okay, I will. Thank you, Michelle.” I managed a small, grateful smile. We sat in silence for a few minutes before a sharp tapping on the window interrupted the quiet. “Do you wanna reopen? I’m pretty sure I can keep it together.” In truth, work was much more appealing than sitting at the motel with only my thoughts and the TV to keep me company.</p><p>“Guess I better, huh?” she said, wrinkling her nose, and I smiled.</p><p>She kept me grinning through the rest of the shift, her vulgar commentary on the invented home lives of passing tourists reducing me to tears of laughter. When there was a break between customers she left me briefly alone in the store and returned with a box of gigantic rocky road brownies from the bakery next door, still warm and studded with gooey jumbo marshmallows, and playfully threatened to fire me if I didn’t eat one.</p><p>I was sweeping when the storm came on, the rain starting so suddenly and so hard that it made me jump. I rushed to the window—the street was already running with tiny rivers, the few poor souls still outside sprinting for cover.</p><p>Michelle joined me a moment later, her eyes wide. “…Do you want a ride home?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.</p><p>“Yes please.” My voice was small; I was still in shock at the strength of the storm. Lightning flashed, burning bright afterimages into my vision, and we’d barely counted one Mississippi before thunder cracked the air.</p><p>Michelle drove at a crawl to the motel, her knuckles white against the steering wheel, leaning forward in her seat to squint past the flying windshield wipers. Still, it felt too soon when she stopped outside our door; the jeep was still gone, and the idea of spending the next few hours alone tightened the knot in my gut again.</p><p>“You gonna be okay?” She was shouting over the crack of rain against the windows, but her eyes were worried.</p><p>“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” I said with more confidence than I felt.</p><p>“<em>Talk </em>to him,” she ordered, and I huffed theatrically.</p><p>“Yeah, I know. Thank you, Michelle.” I managed a smile before I took a deep breath, bracing myself, and sprinted for our door.</p><p>I flipped the light switch, and frowned and it hit again when nothing happened. My stomach sank still further; I’d been expecting to at least have TV as a distraction as I waited for Cassidy to come home. Someone—maintenance, I hoped—had been by and left a battery-powered camping lantern sitting on the counter of the kitchenette, and when I turned it on its garish light cast bizarre funhouse shadows, transforming the familiar, cozy room into unsettling, alien territory. I flopped onto the bed on my belly and tugged my phone from my bag. There was a single message waiting; a congratulations to Cass from Rowan on the new job. I deleted it with a grimace and tried to focus every ounce of my mental energy on Candy Crush.</p><p>The glare of the jeep’s headlights woke me from a thin sleep—the roar of its engine was inaudible over the torrential rain that still battered the windows. My heart leapt and a grin stretched my cheeks for a moment before I recalled my promise to Michelle that I’d confront him, and then I let my face fall against the stale-smelling comforter.</p><p>The door flew open and Cass stomped in, water streaming from his body to soak through the carpet in seconds. His hair was plastered to his skull and his clothes clung to his skin; he looked like he’d just walked out of the ocean, rather than the few steps through the rain from our parking spot to the door. He was beaming, his teeth gleaming white in the dark, his expression triumphant. He shook his head as I watched, sending frigid droplets flying across the room to spatter against me on the bed.</p><p>I squeaked and retreated to the bathroom, returning with every clean towel we had. He was already stripping, and when I reached out to wrap a towel around his shoulders I could see he was shivering despite his exultant demeanour. He caught my face between his freezing hands and pulled me to him, kissing me hard and then resting his damp forehead against mine.</p><p>“’Lo,” he said, and in spite of myself I grew warm, soft under his touch. I pressed closer, brushing kisses over his collarbones.</p><p>“Hi, Cass,” I murmured. I rested my cheek against his chest for a moment before I pulled away to carry his soaked clothes to the tub. When I returned he was still drying himself briskly, and I climbed back into bed, sitting against the headboard. The sopping towels joined his clothes in the bathroom, and then I opened my arms to him and he positioned himself in front of me, sitting between my legs and leaning back against my chest, and tugged the blankets up to his chin. I wrapped my arms around him, gasping at the chill clamminess of his skin, and he hummed his contentment.</p><p>“God, that’s nice,” he moaned, and I when I breathed hot air over his neck and shoulders his happy sigh made me melt. Slowly his shivering eased, from constant to intermittent to fits and starts and then it died away completely. He grew heavy against me, and I was sorely tempted to let him doze off, to put off confronting him for another night.</p><p>“Cassidy, I…” I swallowed hard, my nerve failing. “How was work?” Please. <em>Please </em>tell the truth.</p><p>The storm stopped as suddenly as it had started, like someone kinking the hose to a sprinkler, and in the sudden silence the sound of our breathing was like wind rushing through a canyon.</p><p>“Ah, it was alright. Slowed right down, once all that rolled in.” One hand emerged from the blankets to wave in the direction of the window.</p><p>I let my head fall back against the headboard, closing my eyes against the tears that threatened. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves and my voice. “I know you weren’t at work, Cassidy.”</p><p>His shoulders went rigid and cold air rushed between us as he pulled away from me. It was several seconds before he replied. “Oh?” I felt a flash of anger at his muted response—I deserved more.</p><p>“You left your nametag. I walked it up to the bar, and picked up lunch. But you weren’t there. Like how there was no inventory to do last week.” His shoulders rose slowly, and I heard the soft hiss of his breath as he blew it out. Still he didn’t speak, and I started to wonder if I preferred lies to this silence. “Are you using again?” I asked abruptly. Of all the possibilities I had imagined, it was the most manageable, the least frightening, and I found myself hoping the answer was yes.</p><p>“Am I what?” He turned to eye me over his shoulder, his brow deeply furrowed, and I clenched my teeth and tried to swallow hot anger that was trying to erupt.</p><p>“Are you <em>using. </em>Crack or heroin or <em>the Dom Perignon of amphetamines </em>or whatever.” I spat the last and regret bloomed as hurt crossed his features, but the anger smothered it. He turned fully to face me, his arms crossed over his chest.</p><p>“Why’re yeh askin’ me that? I promised I wouldn’.” His voice was small and flat, but oddly resigned.</p><p>“Because you’ve been lying to me, Cassidy! Disappearing for an entire <em>day!</em> And what the fuck was that with Daryl yesterday?!” I realized I’d begun to shout, and lowered my voice. “What do you expect me to think?!”</p><p>“Well, I’d perhaps expect yeh t’ give me th’ benefit of the doubt. I mean, Jaysis, it’s been what, a week since I told yeh I wouldn’ use? An’ yeh already t’ink I’ve gone back on it?” His tone was mild, almost conversational, and it made the guilt that much more searing when it came.</p><p>“So what should I think?” I asked again. “It’s not like you don’t have a history of—”</p><p>“Of bein’ a fuckup. A loser, right? Yeah, I remember. But Christ, I bin tryin’ t’ be better, whether or not yeh noticed. An’ as soon as it all goes a bit sideways that gets t’rown out, is that how it’s gonna be?” He never raised his voice above speaking, but his face darkened and his tone deepened, as if the storm clouds that had filled the sky were locked inside his chest.</p><p>“You know what? Yeah. Yeah, if you’re gonna be lying to me about whatever’s going on with you, it is.” I raised my chin stubbornly.</p><p>He drew back as though I’d slapped him, his eyes wide and his nostrils flared. He stared silently for what felt like ages, the muscles of his jaw working rhythmically.</p><p>“<em>I bin tryin’ t’ make a place for us!</em>” he finally snapped, and then closed his eyes and drew a huge breath, releasing it slowly. “A real home, like. T’ get us out o’ this shithole.”</p><p>“…oh,” I breathed. My mind raced as I grasped the magnitude of my misunderstanding.</p><p>“<em>Oh,</em>” he repeated acidly, and I folded my arms tight across my stomach. “Meant it t’ be a surprise.”</p><p>Remorse filled me; I felt like I was being hollowed out, my guts scooped away to make more room for guilt. “I’m sorry.” The words were too small, too common to bridge this gap. “I’m so sorry, Cass, I just…when you started disappearing and making stuff up, I thought—”</p><p>“I know what yeh t’ought. Yeh’ve made it perfectly clear, don’ worry.” I shriveled under his reproachful stare, my eyes lowered to the frayed bedsheet.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” I whispered again, but when I reached to brush my fingers over his knuckles he pulled away from me, and hurt twisted in my chest like tangled wire.</p><p>“’S not th’ firs’ time someone’s thought th’ worst o’ me, an’ it won’ be the last, I’m sure.” I met his eyes, hoping to see his self-deprecating smile, but I might as well have been staring at closed shutters. “I’ll take yeh there t’morrow. May as well, now that th’ secret’s out.” Without another word he flopped down at the very edge of the bed with his back to me and yanked the blankets up to his shoulders.</p><p>“Cass, I…” I searched desperately for something of substance to say, something that could even come close to fixing this. “I’m so sorry.” I stroked his hair once, from crown to nape, the only part of him I could see. He didn’t respond, and I felt the chasm inside me widen. “I love you,” I murmured, and I heard him sigh quietly.</p><p>As slowly as though my joints were filled with glass I eased under the comforter on my side of the bed, aching to be held but knowing I didn’t deserve it. I stared out the window, my mind too full to let me rest. All trace of the storm was gone, and with the electricity out and the area plunged into perfect darkness I could count the stars from where I lay. I started in the high left-hand corner of the frame, and I’d reached one hundred and fifty-three before I felt the nagging sensation that something was missing. I’d counted two hundred and eighty-six before I realized what it was—Cassidy’s snoring, the white noise I’d come to rely on to soothe me to sleep, and that had started within seconds of his eyes closing every night since I’d known him, was silent.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I appreciate every hit and I love y'all! Thank you for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0067"><h2>67. Beneath the Sun and Moon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper finally learns the secret Cass has been keeping from her.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I dressed silently, my eyes burning and itching with exhaustion, and Cassidy didn’t look much better than I felt; his eyes were red-rimmed, with dark bags like bruises beneath them. I couldn’t help but imagine how this day should have gone—the curiosity and excitement that could have been bubbling inside me if I had just trusted him. I felt small, withered up inside, and I ached with the desire to go back, to repair the irreparable. I peered outside, gauging the weather—weak sunshine glanced off the puddles that remained from the storm, but it was a clear day. I tugged on a cardigan, but Cass cleared his throat behind me.</p><p>“Yeh’ll want somethin’ warmer,” he said, his first words since the night before, and then busied himself with tucking his jeans deep inside his boots. I layered on a second, heavier sweater and went outside to wait leaning against the jeep.</p><p>When he emerged he was recognizable only by the red-tinted aviator sunglasses he always wore out during the day. He’d donned a dark balaclava that he pulled so high over his nose that it brushed his lower lashes and so low over his forehead that his eyebrows were covered. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, but I could see he wore long, thick gloves, the wrists of his jacket sleeves cinched tight around them to protect from careless tugging.</p><p>He strode wordlessly past the jeep, and after a moment I hurried to catch up, nearly jogging to match his long strides. I followed him to the beach, and then along the water until we reached a private dock with two boats bobbing gently beside it. Daryl sat on the deck of the larger, a heap of green fishing net at his feet, passing it slowly through his hands and inspecting it for fraying. He raised a hand when he spotted Cassidy, apparently unfazed by his odd outfit, and Cass returned the wave.</p><p>The other boat had been white once, but much of the paint had peeled away, revealing the aluminum hull beneath. Cassidy pulled back the tarp that guarded it from the elements to reveal that the seats’ green vinyl cushions were cracked and worn, and the deck was spattered with old blood—from fish, I hoped. He leapt to the small craft with careless ease, but I hesitated, leaning against one of the dock posts.</p><p>“You bought a boat?” I asked tentatively, and he nodded once.</p><p>“When yeh saw me payin’ Daryl the other day, tha’ was fer <em>Béal Inse</em><em>.</em>”</p><p>“<em>Béal Inse</em>.” I rolled the name over in my mouth, trying to echo his musical tones. My fingers tightened convulsively on the weather-worn wood, still damp and soft from the night before. “Cass, were you out on this in that storm last night?!” Belated anxiety swept through me with the image of him clinging to the tiny capsized boat in the dark as thunder and lightning crashed overhead.</p><p>He nodded again, his hands busy with the knobs and switches that surrounded the boat’s wheel. “Didn’ have a way t’ contact yeh, an’ didn’ want yeh t’ worry if I didn’ come home.” He finally faced me, but his expression was unreadable under his sunglasses and hood. “Yeh comin’?”</p><p>I hopped onto the boat, stumbling awkwardly as I landed, and Cassidy caught my arm to steady me before he pulled away again. “Please don’t do that again. Just let me worry next time.” I thought I heard him scoff at that, but it was drowned out by the roar of the engine as he turned the key. I took the seat next to him and leaned in tentatively, until my shoulder brushed his hip with the lightest of touches. He didn’t press into me as he normally would have, but he didn’t pull away either, and I forced myself not to ask for more.   </p><p>We bobbed out toward the open water and suddenly I understood why Cassidy had covered himself so much more thoroughly than usual, and why he’d left before dawn the day before. The sun flashed against the waves, sending unpredictable beams of light lancing at us from every direction, and shade was nowhere to be found on the tiny boat. It was going to be a gorgeous day, but its beauty was marred by anxiety for him, and I found myself plotting ways to make the boat more vampire-safe—a mounted canopy, perhaps. At the very least, umbrellas stored under each of the seats along with the life preservers.         </p><p>The engine snarled and suddenly we were flying, skimming over the waves, the wind whipping my hair and fine salty droplets coating my exposed skin. An exhilarated grin stretched my lips, but the autumn air had been chilly even without the wind, and I crossed my arms over my chest tightly, huddling down in my seat.</p><p>“I <em>tolja </em>t’ dress warm,” Cassidy shouted over the wind, and his teasing tone was just a little colder than usual. I bit my tongue against protest, determined to take my well-earned lumps without complaint. We passed between two great islands; the one on our right lined with impressive beach houses in every imaginable shape and color, the one on the left thickly wooded, its coast rocky, with no sign of human habitation anywhere. “That’s Cypress Island,” Cass said, pointing at the thick wilderness, but the thought of my brother still filled me with dull anger.</p><p>“Is that where we’re going?” I had to repeat myself for him to hear me over the wind, but he only shook his head. Another wild island appeared on our right, but we flew past this one too, and then the water there was wide open, though if I squinted I could make out the faintest outline of land at the limits of my vision. I clung to my seat as we rounded a sharp point where seals lay resting in the morning sun, easily mistakable for speckled oblong rocks but for the occasional scratching flipper or curious head popping up to track our progress.</p><p>Cassidy cut the engine suddenly, and I swayed forward and caught myself against the console. The boat bobbed as our wake caught up to us, and then gently rolled on the waves.</p><p>“What…?” I glanced up to Cass, but he was pointing out ahead of us, and I followed his finger.</p><p>“Give ‘em a minute. Jes’ saw ‘em.” I squinted, holding my breath, and a moment later they surfaced, just to the left of where Cassidy pointed. Tall black dorsal fins sliced through the water, cutting through the clouds of mist they left floating as they breathed. Orcas. I lunged to the front of the boat, clinging to the bar there, counting quickly—four tall fins, and one smaller one, only half the height of the others. They stayed close to the surface, their fins barely disappearing into the water before they’d appear again with a sharp expulsion of air that rolled across the water to our ears.        </p><p>Cassidy joined me at the bow and we watched the pod’s progress quietly. His gloved hand found mine and I squeezed it tightly but didn’t take my eyes from the whales, reluctant to miss even a second. Their steady pace and harmonized movements made me think of loping through the woods with my family.</p><p>“Have you seen them out here before?” Awe quieted my voice to a murmur, like a believer entering an ancient, grand cathedral for the first time.</p><p>“Once, yesterday mornin’.” Cass matched my hushed tone. “Dunno if it was th’ same ones, o’ course.” The group of fins cut away from us abruptly, all veering together in one smooth motion, and I wondered if they’d sensed prey nearby. We watched until they faded from view, and I heard Cassidy sigh. “Bloody beautiful,” he murmured. Their disappearance seemed to break the fragile illusion of normalcy between us and he gave my hand a brief squeeze before pulling away and returning to the helm. The boat’s engine shattered the silence, the roar of it like thunder over the water, and we were off again.</p><p>I realized suddenly that we’d arced toward land on our left; the trees had grown slowly larger, from a blurred mass of green until I could make out individual trunks and boughs. He aimed the nose of<em> Béal Inse</em> toward a massive driftwood log and turned off the engine again, and my knuckles whitened against my weathered vinyl seat as we drifted, powerless, on course to ram it. In the end we only bumped it gently, jolting to a halt, and Cassidy secured us, front and rear, to two limbs that stretched toward the sky like the arms of eager students. When he’d triple-checked his knots he walked down the thick log to the beach and hopped down, his boots crunching on the gravelly shore. I followed, slightly less gracefully, sitting when I reached the beach to slide to the ground. Cassidy waited for me this time, and I smiled hesitantly when I reached him, though if he returned it I couldn’t see. He started toward the trees, but slower this time; I didn’t need to jog to keep up.</p><p>“Um…where are we?” I asked hesitantly.</p><p>“Orcas Island. Nor’east side,” he replied. He pronounced it like a local—<em>orkiss</em>—though it sounded strange in his mouth.</p><p>I anticipated a lengthy hike through the woods, but it was only moments before we broke into a small clearing with a neglected log cabin at its center. Most of the shingles were peeling away from the roof, completely gone in places, and the windows I could see had been boarded. Much of the porch had gone dark with damp and rot, but the walls and roof and the stone chimney all looked solid enough.</p><p>“I wanted t’ get it fixed up before yeh saw it,” Cassidy said when I was silent. His voice was anxious, defensive, and I took his hand, squeezing reassuringly.</p><p>“It’s ours?” I asked breathlessly. I could see what it had been, what it might become again, and the prospect of building it back up with him sent a thrill of eagerness through me.</p><p>“Not…<em>exactly,</em>” Cass hedged, and I turned to search his face before I remembered that it was still covered by the balaclava. “But it’s abandoned—has been fer a while, accordin’ t’ th’ fellas at work. An’ most places, if yeh live in a spot long enough, an’ yeh prove that yeh’ve been payin’ th’ taxes an’ bills, eventually it’s yours. Adverse possession, it’s called. I already made th’ first property tax payment, an’ got th’ water an’ electric up again.”</p><p>I considered this carefully, my lips pursed. I’d never heard of it, but he sounded sure of himself. “Show me the rest?” I finally requested, bouncing to the balls of my toes. “Do you wanna do outside first, or do you want a break from…all of that?” I waved a hand at his thick protective gear.</p><p>“Outside’s good. It’ll be quick, an’ issa pain t’ get all this back on,” he said, and I felt a knot loosen in my chest when he took my hand again to lead me around the cabin. He paused in front of a wood pile, split and neatly stacked on two pallets to keep it away from the damp. “’S not enough fer this winter, we’ll have t’ buy some.” I stared disbelievingly—the pile seemed large to me, nearly waist-high and as long as I was tall. “But when spring comes I was t’inkin’ we’d put in some birch an’ poplar, start growin’ our own.” That he was thinking so far ahead thrilled me—he really meant to stay, for <em>years</em>, or at least until spring. He started to move on, but the cogs were still turning slowly in my head.</p><p>“You cut all this? For us?” I asked, astounded, and he scoffed.</p><p>“I know how t’ use a saw on more’n jes’ people,” he said, and I thought I saw his eyes crinkle behind his sunglasses. “Now c’mon.” I followed eagerly to the inland side of the cabin. There was another porch and a back door, both in marginally better condition than the front. There on the deck, leaned cheerfully against the weathered wall, was the tall wooden <em>home </em>sign I’d brought home from work, only to have it disappear.</p><p>I barked a surprised laugh. “You sneaky <em>bastard!</em>” I accused, and now I could have sworn I spotted the outline of his grin under the balaclava.</p><p>“My God, I’m glad yeh didn’ go stormin’ into th’ office, full o’ righteous rage,” he teased. “Terrorizin’ th’ poor receptionist, prob’ly sendin’ her to therapy,” he went on, and I laughed as I took in this side of the house. There’d been a garden in front of the porch once, but it was long overgrown with weeds and brambles, and old beer cans and bottles gleamed from the depths of the creeping plant life. “’S too late t’ plant much now, but if we get that cleared out before frost comes we c’n get it ready t’ use in the spring, mulch it an’ whatnot.” He glanced back at me to find me grinning like a lovestruck teenager, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “What?”</p><p>“I’ve just never seen this side of you before. I like it,” I explained—an understatement—and he shrugged.</p><p>“’S how I grew up. Bin a while since I done it, but I still remember how. Property backs onto Moran State Park,” he said, gesturing toward the thick wood that encroached on the clearing. “Lotsa woods fer runnin’ round in, jes’ mind the campers.” He looked around, considering, sucking his teeth. “T’ink that’s about it fer outside. D’yeh wanna go in?”</p><p>“<em>Yes!</em>” My exclamation, nearly a shout, startled the birds to silence, and Cassidy chuckled.</p><p>“Mind yer step on the stairs. Middle one’s rotted t’rough,” he warned as he mounted the porch, and I followed him, carefully avoiding the jaggedly broken middle step. He produced a key from his pocket to open the heavy padlock that he’d installed on the door. “Local kids bin usin’ it as a hangout, an’ once I started gettin’ it cleaned out I didn’ want ‘em undoin’ my work,” he explained. He shouldered it open with a creak and a shower of dust and grit and we stepped into the dim, musty silence of our home. He tugged off the balaclava with an audible sigh of relief—the gloves went next, and then the jacket, tossing them to the corner in a strange and silent striptease. I drank in his features eagerly, like catching raindrops on my tongue after a drought, but grew suddenly anxious when he caught me staring.</p><p>“…Can I kiss you?” I asked tentatively, and he considered my request for far too long before he nodded. I cradled his face in my hands, brushing my thumbs over his cheekbones for a moment before I stretched on tiptoe to bring my lips to his, sweet and soft. I pressed my forehead to his when we parted, my eyes closed. “I love you. <em>Thank you </em>for finding this place. For doing all of this for us.”</p><p>He pulled away gently, and I stifled the urge to pull him back to me. “Don’ thank me yet,” he said with a ghost of a smile. “Yeh’ve not seen th’ state o’ th’ kitchen.”</p><p>My eyes had adjusted now and I peered around the tiny living room curiously. There were bulging trash bags in the corner, and the scratched hardwood floor was still covered in grit that crunched under my feet. Across from the fireplace, standing in stark contrast to the filthy floor and smudged walls was a dark grey, cozy-looking loveseat—clearly used, but well loved and taken care of. I touched its arm lightly; the fabric was worn smooth and soft.</p><p>“Ours?” I asked, and Cass nodded. Behind him, in the corner, there was a chest-high, rectangular <em>something,</em> and approached to investigate. It was a stainless steel cage, like the one from last moon with Jesse and Tulip, but Cassidy had somehow, magically, made it <em>homey. </em>He’d poked holes in a gauzy blanket and zip-tied it to the outside of the bars, creating a dark, cozy den. The inside was layered with bedding, several inches deep and springy; when I pulled back the blankets I found a foam mattress that shaped itself to my hand when I knelt to push on it.</p><p>“I wanted t’ make it nice.” Cassidy’s voice came from just behind me. “I know it’s never gonna <em>be</em> nice, bein’ caged up, but I wanted t’ try.”</p><p>I spun to throw my arms around him, knocking him back a step, and pressed my face to his chest. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” His returning embrace was stiff, unsure, and I squeezed him tighter before I pulled back to peer into his face. “Cassidy…Proinsias.” I hesitated for a moment—I needed to get this right. “I’m so sorry I didn’t trust you. And didn’t talk to you before things got so…before I got so upset.” I brought my palm to his cheek, and he leaned into my touch, just a bit. “You deserve better from me. I’ll be better.”</p><p>His eyes fluttered closed, and he turned to kiss my palm lightly. “Thank yeh fer sayin’ so,” he murmured hoarsely. He didn’t open his eyes as he went on, but he leaned further into my touch, and I stroked his cheek lightly. “Y’know, anyone else t’inkin’ I’m fuckin’ about, screwin’ t’ings up, I wouldn’ care. Yeh know what I mean? Fuck ‘em. But wi’ you it’s different. If yeh really felt that way—”</p><p>“I don’t!” I cut in fiercely, and he searched my face. “Really, I don’t. I <em>know </em>you’re trying for us. I do. I think…sometimes you feel too good to be true? Like everything’s going too well, and I guess part of me has just been expecting things to go wrong, you know? But that’s about me, not you.”</p><p>Now he hugged me to him, resting his chin on top of my head as a low chuckle shook his chest. “I bin called a lot o’ t’ings in my time, yeh know, but I t’ink too good t’ be true is a first.”</p><p>“You are. I feel so lucky every day that I get to be with you.” I stretched to kiss him some more, brushing my lips over his cheekbones, his nose, and his chin before at last they found his. “Show me the rest?”</p><p>He caught my chin for another kiss before he turned to toward the door on our left. “Alright, but I’m warnin’ yeh, I haven’ started cleanin’ th’ kitchen yet.”</p><p>The smell of mice grew stronger as we passed through the door, and my nose wrinkled for a moment before I caught myself and smoothed my expression. Broken glass and rodent droppings littered the floor alongside less recognizable refuse that I opted not to try to identify. Half of the cabinet doors hung from their hinges, and the ones that didn’t were graffitied with expletives and genitalia in every color. But the big picture window that opened out on the front porch made the room feel light and airy, and I could see us there, at a tiny table built for two, drinking coffee and teasing each other to tears of laughter.</p><p>“C’mon upstairs.” Cassidy tugged my arm, hurrying me along gently. I followed him up a rickety, creaking staircase, clinging to the railing, to the loft bedroom. It was the cleanest room by far; Cassidy had meticulously swept away the dust and trash and brushed the cobwebs from the corners; a smell of wet paint lingered and I could see darker spots on the walls where he’d covered more graffiti. There was no bed, but two black, square frames hung against the far wall, and I moved closer to see. They were simple typography pieces with white backgrounds that wouldn’t have meant much to anyone but us. <em>I love you to the moon and back</em>, one read, with a blue crescent moon and several stars studded through it. <em>You are my sunshine</em>, was the other, with a simply rendered sun in one corner, its rays spilling across the canvas.</p><p>Cassidy’s arms circled my waist, his chin coming to rest on my shoulder. “I was thinkin’ th’ bed could go here against this wall,” he murmured, and I caught his hand, entwining our fingers. “An’ that one could be fer yer side,” he pointed to the sunshine piece with his free hand, “—an’ that one over mine,” he added of the moon piece.</p><p>I turned in his arms to hug him tightly. “It’s <em>perfect, </em>Cassidy. I love it all so much.”</p><p>“I really did mean t’ get it…y’know, <em>liveable </em>before yeh saw it. Nice. I wanted yeh t’ come in to a real home, like, wit’out all th’ work that still has t—"</p><p>I cut him off with a kiss, cradling the nape of his neck in my hands. “Shush. I’m <em>glad </em>I get to do this with you.” I meant it. Not that I wanted to spend my days off sweeping up mouse shit or covering up graffiti or repairing the windows, but the prospect of turning the little cabin into a home with him filled me with joy and anticipation.</p><p>His hands slid to my waist, his thumbs brushing slow circles over my hips, and I sighed softly, my eyes drifting closed. “Do yeh really like it?” he asked, and I hummed amusement at his nervousness.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>,” I said emphatically. “I love it. I love you.” I pulled him in for another kiss, and this time I allowed my hands to wander, first to his ass, and then up under the hem of his shirt to stroke his warm back. He arched into the touch, and I nosed the warm nook where his collar bones met, just over the runes that framed his magpie tattoo. “A request though?”</p><p>“Hm?” With each stroke along my hips his thumbs followed the lines of my pelvis a little lower, a little closer to my slick center, and I found myself tilting my hips toward him, already aching for his touch.</p><p>“Is it okay if we don’t wait three days to christen it?” His response was immediate; he pulled me close, flush against his chest, and his mouth found mine to kiss me hungrily. I moaned against his lips as I felt his hardness through his thick jeans and fumbled with his belt and fly.</p><p>His lips were against my neck, my ear, my shoulder, distracting me, making the task of undressing him even more challenging. “Where?” he asked huskily.</p><p>I yanked his shirt over his head before I replied, reveling, as I always did, in the beauty of him. I lost myself for a moment, brushing my fingers over his chest, tracing the ridges of his ribs, his tattoos, marveling at the stark contrast of the black ink against his pale skin. He waited patiently for me to return to him, though his eyes were dark with want. “It’s your tour,” I said finally, and he grinned crookedly down at me.</p><p>He laid me down there on the floor, beneath the sun and moon pictures, and slipped my shirt off. He trailed feathery, ticklish kisses down my chest and stomach to my waist. I watched as he deftly opened my fly, onehanded, and then he slipped his arm beneath me and lifted my hips to tug them off.</p><p>“Show-off,” I muttered, and he laughed softly. He wriggled out of his briefs and positioned himself over me, and I moaned softly at the sight of his cock, swollen and hard, the head nearly purple with blood. I reached between us and traced my fingertips over him lightly, drawing a needy groan that hitched as his cock jumped against my fingers. I kept up my soft teasing, a smirk curling my lips, and when a drop of precum seeped from his slit I caught it on my thumb, slicking his head and drawing another throaty moan.</p><p>“Please, <em>mo grá</em>,” he breathed, and a flood of wetness made me squirm. I nodded once and he plunged into me with a growl, his brow furrowing and his eyes squeezing shut. He began to thrust, but I pressed my hands against his chest.</p><p>“Wait,” I gasped, and the distress that flashed across his face made me giggle. I pushed and prodded gently, guiding him to lay beside me, so we were facing each other on our sides on the hardwood. “I don’t want you to hurt your knees…” I explained, blushing, and he snorted.</p><p>“Yeh’re crazy if yeh t’ink I’m noticin’ anythin’ below th’ waist about now,” he said, grinning, but he groaned as I threw my leg over his hip, drawing him in deeper, and when his hand found my ass and he began pulling me to meet each thrust he seemed to lose the capacity for smartass remarks.</p><p>I tucked my face against his chest, pressing rapid-fire kisses over his skin, and my world was filled with him—his body along the full length of mine, his harsh breaths in my ears, his hands roaming over every inch of skin, his cock filling me in the most delicious way.</p><p>“I love this,” I whimpered. “I love you…you feel so good inside me.” He groaned at that, thrusting harder, and I nipped his collarbone lightly, teasing him with my teeth. He began to shudder, moaning with each thrust, and I tangled one hand in his hair, the other clutching at his back, trying to pull him impossibly closer. “I want you to cum, Proinsias,” I murmured against his sweat-slicked skin, and he nodded, thrusting harder, his hips crashing into mine with a force that made me gasp and moan.</p><p>He came with a great shout, his brows drawing together fiercely, his breath trembling against my skin as he lowered his head to my shoulder. I stroked his hair as he shivered in the aftermath, rolling my hips slowly to milk every bit of cum from his spent cock.</p><p>“Adequately christened?” he asked. His voice was drowsy, his lids heavy as he lazily stroked my back, and I grinned at him, feigning surprise.</p><p>“Adequately? There’s still like, four more rooms to do, Cassidy,” I teased, and he laughed, tugging me closer.</p><p>“You’ll be th’ death o’ me, woman.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0068"><h2>68. Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper and Cassidy have settled into their cabin on the coast, but an unexpected event shakes things up...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Frost crunched under my paws, and I became a statue, holding my breath. The doe stared in my direction, her nostrils flaring and tail twitching anxiously, but I was hidden deep in the bush, and after a moment she lowered her head to continue browsing, though her ears still swiveled this way and that and her tail continued to switch nervously. I crept forward again, barely lifting my paws and placing them so slowly that the frost melted underfoot rather than cracking. I inhaled deeply and my mouth flooded with saliva at the tantalizing scent of the deer, only a few bounds away. <em>Patience. </em>The steam of my slow, silent exhale collected in fine drops along my whiskers.</p><p>Then she was off, alarmed by some sign unknown to me, the white underside of her tail a bright warning flag in the dark. I bolted after her, all thought of stealth abandoned, weaving between trees and bursting through the frost-brittle foliage. She was more maneuverable, but I was faster, and when she zigged rather than zagged I took my chance and leapt, landing squarely on her back. I checked the wolf’s instinct to tear until I reached the carotid, instead taking her skull in my mouth, far back between my molars, and giving a sharp wrench. There was a <em>pop</em>, like the cracking of a knuckle but much louder, and we fell to the ground as her legs collapsed beneath her—she was already gone, no blood lost. Cass would be pleased. I raised my head high, keeping her body off the ground as well as I could as I loped home through the dark.</p><p>I could hear Cassidy long before I reached our little clearing; he was singing, each bar of his song punctuated with the sharp <em>thunk</em> of a hatchet against wood, and at the sound of him my tail began to wag.</p><p><em>Like Jack Horner, </em>Thwack!<br/><em>In th’ corner, </em>Thwack!<br/><em>Don’ go nowhere, </em>Thwack!<br/><em>What do I care? </em>Thwack!<em> <br/>Yer kisses are worth waitin’ for… </em>Thwack!<br/><em>Believe me!</em></p><p>I paused when I reached the treeline, taking him in. He’d stripped to the waist in spite of the cold, and steam rose from his gleaming back as he worked. The pile of firewood had grown—he seemed stubbornly set on supplying us for the winter without outside help—and now stretched across four pallets and was higher than my shaggy shoulder, neatly stacked and protected from the damp with tarps. His lithe, corded muscles had grown more sharply defined with the work of restoring the cabin and preparing for winter, and they played under his skin as his grip shifted with each swing of the hatchet.</p><p>I waited until he’d paused between logs, mopping his face with his abandoned shirt, and gave a low woof of greeting, muffled by the doe that still hung from my jaws. His face split in a wide grin when he spotted me, and I trotted to meet him, tripping once over the deer’s dangling legs. I dropped her as he reached me, and when he squatted to examine my work I bumped my forehead to his once before heading toward the door, my bones already cracking and rearranging as I shifted. I paused in front of the fireplace, relishing the warm glow of the ever-present embers for a moment before I brushed my teeth briskly and dressed, grabbing our leather-wrapped knife set from the kitchen before I peeked back outside. Cassidy hadn’t finished yet—his mouth was still at the doe’s throat, and if I’d listened for it I would have heard his slurping and low growls even across the lawn. I busied myself washing the few dishes left over from the day before, and when I checked again he was done and the doe was hanging by her rear legs from a tree.</p><p>The sky was greying, and I jogged out to meet him, eager to finish before the sun came up. His belly was slightly rounded, and his movements had the slow, ginger nature of someone who’s overextended themselves at a buffet.</p><p>“Good?” I asked, and he looked up from scrubbing the blood from his mouth, only slightly abashed.</p><p>“Good. Thank yeh, <em>mo gréine</em>,” He pressed his forehead to mine for a moment—a substitute for a kiss, and one I was more than happy with until he’d cleaned his mouth out. I offered him the knife set, but he shook his head. “You do it. Yeh’re gettin’ better.” He upended one of the logs that had yet to be split and took a seat on it, his arms crossed, watching me. I wrinkled my nose, but selected a knife and got to work.</p><p>“I was thinking we could take some to town soon,” I said as I cut. “For Rose-Marie and Michelle. The freezer is gonna overflow if we don’t.”</p><p>“Alright, but not th’ haunches or shoulders. Stew season’s comin’.” Without the work of woodcutting to warm him, and with a watchful eye on the lightening sky behind us, he tugged his jacket back on. “Yer shift start at three?”</p><p>“Mhm. Lots of time for a shower and a nap.” We’d become nearly nocturnal, with Cassidy’s shifts running late and few obligations during the day, and he seemed to thrive on it.</p><p>The doe was processed quickly, though not so quickly as Cass could have done it—I’d seen him part out a deer in no more than ten minutes, whistling and chatting the whole time, his hands moving with the assured ease of a musician returning to a piece of music they’d learned as a child and never quite forgotten. When it was done we wrapped the cuts and stuffed them into the overflowing freezer on the porch before heading inside just as the sun turned the treetops in the east to blazing torches.</p><p>We shed our clothes unselfconsciously on our way to the bathroom, and I perched on the edge of the tub, monitoring water temperature while Cassidy brushed his teeth. After, I tugged him to me for a proper kiss, sighing happily against his mouth. We climbed into the shower together and Cass wrapped his arms around me, resting his chin on my head. I let my forehead fall against his chest so that the steaming water battered the back of my neck. After a moment his warm chest pulled away, and I whined a protest, but then he was back, and after my forehead thunked to rest against his magpie tattoo his fingers were in my hair, rubbing tiny circles that teased the shampoo he’d grabbed into a thick lather.</p><p>I sighed softly as he worked his way over my scalp and then down my neck, turning my muscles to so many limp noodles. I was drifting, dozing off on my feet when he stopped and I keened again, rocking my forehead against his chest for more, and he laughed softly. When more was not forthcoming I sighed theatrically and leaned back to rinse my hair, and then slipped around him to wash while he had a turn under the showerhead. </p><p>The water weighed down his curls, stretching them straight, and I tilted my head, surprised; at full, uncoiled length his hair reached clear to his cheekbones. He caught me staring and gave his head a quick shake so that his bangs fell in a straight curtain across his eyes.</p><p>“Do you know they asked me to join the Beatles, once?” he deadpanned in a flawless reproduction of John Lennon’s Liverpool inflection. “But I told them to quit bugging me.”</p><p>I’d opened my mouth to ask him more about it before his joke hit home, and then I swatted him, laughing. “You’re an <em>embarrassment</em>, Proinsias Cassidy,” I said, still giggling, and he grinned toothily before he slicked his hair back out of his eyes.</p><p>“I’m <em>yer </em>embarrassment, though,” he teased, and I glowed inside, tugging him to me to kiss him hungrily. His fingers skimmed down to my hips and I arched against his growing hardness, sighing softly. And then I shrieked as the water turned to icy needles, so frigid and shocking that my lungs froze and I could only draw tiny sips of air. I scrambled from the shower and stood shivering on one foot and glaring as Cassidy rushed to turn the water off.</p><p>“I thought you fixed that!” I yanked a towel into a hood over my head and handed him a second.</p><p>“It’s gettin’ there!” My scowl deepened, and he jabbed a finger at the showerhead. “That’s th’ longest it’s stayed hot so far, an’ yeh know it!”</p><p>I huffed sharply, but softened. “Maybe it’s time to call in a professional?” I suggested hopefully, but he scoffed.</p><p>“If I c’n fix an air conditioner, I can fix a water heater. ‘S th’ same basic concept, jes’ in reverse, d’yeh know what I mean?” He rubbed his towel briskly over his hair, missing my eye roll.</p><p>“Cassidy, you never actually <em>fixed </em>the air conditioner.” I paused. “Also, I’m…pretty sure that’s incorrect.”</p><p>He stepped out of the shower, ducking his head to kiss the tip of my nose. “Well, regardless, it’s gettin’ there. Patience, <em>mo gréine</em>.” The nickname—<em>my sunshine</em>—melted away my grumpiness as it always did, and I caught his hand to kiss his palm before I finished drying.</p><p>When I was no longer dripping I wrapped my towel snugly around me and headed for the stairs to our loft, but paused when I realized Cassidy wasn’t following me. He’d stopped in front of the embers of the fireplace, his face turned toward the warmth, his eyes closed. I slipped behind him to wrap my arms around him and kiss his shoulder lightly.</p><p>“Do you wanna nap down here?” I asked, and when he nodded I continued upstairs for a blanket and pillows. By the time I returned he’d added another log to the fire and was sprawled full length in front of it on the thick rug we’d placed there for just such occasions, looking for all the world like a cat basking in front of a radiator. His arms were stretched high above his head to expose as much of himself as possible to the baking heat, and I laughed softly.</p><p>“Oh, lemme be, ‘s th’ closest I get t’ sunshine,” he muttered drowsily, and I kissed the side of his neck repentantly as I laid down behind him.</p><p>“I know. I’m sorry. You’re just cute.” I tugged the pillow beneath our heads and the blanket up over our shoulders, and he pressed back against me with a soft sigh.</p><p>“It’d serve yeh well t’ remember I’m a fierce predator. A night wrait’. Kill yeh soon’s look at yeh.” His words were slurred with sleep, and I grinned, stifling another laugh. I skimmed my fingers over the skin of his stomach lightly—still taut and slightly swollen with blood—and he hummed happily.</p><p>“I love you, Cass,” I murmured against his ear, and his hand found mine and squeezed it under the blanket.</p><p>“I love you too. T’anks fer bein’ my Juniper.” His familiar snoring started up only moments later, and I stifled a yawn against the skin between his shoulders before pressing my forehead against his back and following him into sleep.</p><p>When I woke afternoon light was spilling through the windows and the fire had nearly died again, though bright embers like molten gold still winked occasionally from beneath a thin bed of cooled ash. I eased from beneath the blanket and crawled to add another log, stirring gently with the poker until the new wood was flush against the embers. Since we’d moved in Cass had been meticulous about keeping the fire going at all times—he’d even gone so far as to fit a metal insert to the fireplace so we could leave it over night or while away and come back to a cozily warm cabin. At first I’d thought it silly, especially before the weather started to turn wintry, but now I loved its warmth and consistency; the steadily beating heart of our home.</p><p>Cassidy’s eyes were open when I turned back to him, and when he smiled dozily and opened his arms to me I cuddled against his chest, baked warm by the fire. “D’we need t’ leave soon?” he asked, and I kissed his chin lightly.</p><p>“Soon. But we have some time…” I grazed my teeth over the skin of his chest and felt him twitch against my hip. His fingers caught the back of my thigh, hitching my leg up and around his waist.</p><p>“How much time?” His voice was already husky with want, and I nipped him again and felt him throb. My answering need brought on a rush of warmth and wet, and when my hips ground against nothing he grinned smugly.</p><p>It took me a moment to process the question, and find the words to respond. “…Enough?” I tried, and he chuckled and ducked his head to kiss me hard, and I moaned against his mouth, my hips rolling again. He snaked one arm between us, his expert fingers finding my clit and drawing a soft, thready sigh.</p><p>“Are yeh sure about that? Be a shame t’ be late, let Michelle down…” He dipped just to my entrance before receding again to continue soft, slow circles over my clit.</p><p>“F-fuck Michelle,” I managed to squeak, and then moaned when he plunged two fingers into me, his thumb taking over those slow circles.</p><p>“If it’s all th’ same t’ you, I’d rather fuck Juniper,” he teased, and I managed half of an exasperated groan before he found my g-spot and my fingers were clenching uselessly against his back and I was crushing my face against his chest.</p><p>“Yes,” I gasped, thrusting myself against his hand. “Yes, do that. Please.” His free hand twined itself in my hair, gently but implacably pulling my head back until he could see my face.</p><p>“I will,” he promised, and his cock throbbed against me in anticipation. “But I wanna see yeh cum first. Cum fer me, Juniper.” He slipped another finger inside me, filling me completely, and I sighed and whimpered at the delicious warm friction of it all. My thighs shook as I searched for purchase to push against him harder, take him deeper, and his teeth flashed as he acquiesced to my unspoken request, drawing a strangled, keening gasps from between my lips.</p><p>“I will,” I gasped. “I am, oh, Proinsias…” Each thrust, accompanied by a tiny circle over my clit, pulled me deeper under waves of pleasure; the world around me faded away, receded until all that was left was his face, intensely focused and dark with lust, and the feeling of him inside me. The quivering that had begun in my thighs spread, my stomach spasming, my fists clenching uselessly against his back as the pulsing, throbbing core of pleasure at my center grew. “<em>Keep doing that,</em>” I managed, and he nodded once, his eyes never leaving my face. And then I was shouting his name as the dense ball of pleasure  exploded, waves of bliss spilling down every limb and through every muscle. I clung to him, shaking as the aftershocks coursed through me, and he brushed my sweat-dampened hair away from my forehead.</p><p>“Yeh alright?” he asked, amusement coloring his tone, and I nodded breathlessly.</p><p>“I want you,” I whispered, my cheeks warming, and he kissed me lightly, sending sparks and shivers through my body. He suspended himself over me, and just the brush of his swollen cock against my folds set me trembling again.</p><p>“Are yeh sure?” he asked, one eyebrow raised, and I nodded eagerly. He slipped in slowly, and I clenched my fists in the thick carpet, moaning as he filled me again. He lowered himself to his elbows to kiss me sweetly, easing in and out, though I could sense his eagerness.</p><p>“I’m <em>okay</em>,” I insisted, and skimmed my fingers down his back to his ass to guide his thrusts. I pulled sharply, burying him in me, and his thin veneer of patience broke. He pressed his lips to my collarbone, growling softly as he fucked me roughly, and with each thrust I spurred him on, moaning and gasping softly, overwhelmed by his thickness, the warmth of the fire against my cheek, the carpet coarse against my back. He kissed me hard, bruisingly, panting into my mouth. “I love yeh,” he murmured, and then he groaned deeply with another rough thrust. I caught his lips again, kissing him hungrily, nipping at his lips, teasing his tongue with mine. “<em>I love yeh,</em>” he said again, and I pressed my palms to his cheeks to draw him to me for another kiss.</p><p>“I want you to cum in me, Cassidy,” I said, and he did, his lips peeling back from his teeth, a deep, throaty groan drowning out my soft sigh as he filled me. When his shuddering eased he flopped bonelessly on top of me, chuckling breathlessly. I skimmed my fingers up and down his sweat-slick back, rubbing my cheek against his stubble. “We gotta go,” I finally murmured regretfully, and he squeezed me tightly, pressing his face to my chest for a long moment before his warm, comforting weight left me.</p><p>Only fifteen minutes later we’d rinsed and dressed, and Cass was bundled in the elaborate uniform he always wore for boating—the dark balaclava that left only a slit for his eyes, his pants tucked securely into his boots, a thick, long coat that zipped from thigh to collar and dark, supple leather gloves. At least now, with the weather shifting, the winter gear didn’t look so out of place. He walked me to the jeep and, after carefully checking the position of the sun, tugged the balaclava down for a moment to kiss me.</p><p>“See yeh in a few?” he asked, as he always did.</p><p>“See you. Be <em>careful,</em>” I replied, as I did every day. I watched as he headed toward the treeline that protected our clearing from harsh northern wind. His stride grew longer, quicker as he went, and I rose up on the balls of my feet with a grin, the keys clenched in my hand. Just before he reached the trees he broke into a sprint, and the race was on. I fumbled at the lock for the jeep and scrambled inside, slamming the door behind me and cursing him—as usual—for leaving the seat set for his height. The cheat.</p><p>At last the engine roared to life and I stomped the gas pedal, the tires kicking up grit and pine needles as I took off down the dirt road that led away from our home, fishtailing for a moment before straightening out. The jeep bounced and stuttered and I clung white-knuckled to the steering wheel, my teeth bared joyfully as I demanded more. I barely slowed as I reached the turnoff for the main road, glancing each way for just a moment before I veered to the pavement.</p><p>The loop around the East Sound slowed me, the little residential streets and blinking stoplights feeling like a personal slight. When I was through the tiny town I floored it again, cranking my window down and relishing in the damp, pine-scented air against my face. The road wove through the trees, the blind curves thrilling me still, and I grinned wildly even as I bore down even harder on the gas pedal.</p><p>The brakes squealed as I lurched into a parking spot at the ferry terminal, and locals—<em>other</em> locals, I still had to remind myself—glared as I threw myself from the jeep, sprinting for the public dock. Cassidy was already there, <em>Béal Inse</em> bobbing gently on the waves, his boots propped on the console in a pose of exaggerated boredom.</p><p>“Didja stop fer a nap or what?” he asked when I reached him and bent with my elbows to my knees, gasping great whooping breaths, and I could hear the smirk in his voice.</p><p>“<em>Someday</em>,” I threatened when I could speak again, and he laughed. I tugged the quick-release knots that tethered<em> Béal Inse</em> to the dock and hopped into the boat with easy familiarity. We’d stocked the storage beneath the seats with warm woolen blankets and I dug out the thickest, wrapping it around myself as he started the engine and eased away from the shore. I plopped down on the seat next to him and when he sat next to me, his neck craned to watch for hazards, I threw one end of the blanket around his shoulders. He pressed his forehead to my temple before he gunned the engine, sending us skimming over the water, bouncing over the waves, the spray and the wind frigid in our faces but our bodies snug and warm in our cocoon.</p><p>I leapt to my feet as we idled toward the dock in Anacortes, anxious of the time. I made to leap for land as soon as it was within reach, but Cassidy’s firm grin on my wrist halted me, yanking me backwards with a yelp.</p><p>“Yeh’re fergettin’ somethin’, <em>mo gréine</em>,” he said sternly, and I turned to him abashedly and bent to kiss his covered forehead. “I love yeh. Have a good shift.”</p><p>I hugged him tightly, sighing happily when his arms crushed me in return. “I love you too. I’ll see you tonight. <em>Please </em>be careful on your way home.”</p><p>“Yeh always say that,” he muttered, but he gave me an extra squeeze before he let me go. “I will. Now get on, you, you’ll be late.”</p><p>I kissed the top of his head again before I scrambled onto the dock and jogged toward work, checking the time on my phone without slowing every few steps. It wasn’t until I paused outside the thrift shop door that I registered a difference—the normal display of household knickknacks had been replaced with frosted glass ornaments and wreaths, Santas of every shape and size and Nutcracker soldiers made of painted wood. The window itself was framed with silver tinsel, and a wreath hung on the door, framing the posted hours. A sprig of plastic holly had joined the bell that rang merrily when I entered, blending near perfectly with the holiday music that was playing. Matrix greeted me with a happy bark and trotted over for a rub behind the ears, and Michelle appeared a moment later. She wore a white long-sleeved t-shirt, but the front was covered with tiny green and red pockets, each labeled with a different number.</p><p>“Merry almost Christmas!” she chirped joyfully, and fished a box of nerds from the pocket marked <em>1</em> to toss it to me. I turned it wonderingly in my hands—surely it wasn’t December yet? But I counted back, and yes, there’d been three full moons since Cass and I had moved into the cabin; all of them spent with him camped out on the couch by my cage, the last thing I saw before I shifted and the first when I came back to myself again.</p><p>“It’s December first?” I questioned, just to be sure, and Michelle scoffed.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>, it’s December first, crazy,” she said affectionately. “Come to the back and choose some Christmas sweaters.” I gazed around the store with new eyes, my lips pursed in thought. “Christmas sweater now, or you’re fired,” she said with mock sternness, and I followed her to the back with a grin. <br/>~~~~<br/>“Are you <em>sure</em> you’re good with that?” Michelle asked again, eyeing my heavily laden arms.</p><p>“Oh, yeah! I’m fine!” I puffed. “I just have to make it to the cafeteria on the ferry!” In truth my arms already ached with the burden, and sweat had popped out on my forehead. “Thank you, though! Thank you for the ride!” I flopped on elbow in a semblance of a wave and teetered away to the loading dock, my teeth gritted stubbornly.</p><p>I made it to one of the chipped tables and sat heavily, panting and flexing my arms, but grinning triumphantly. I wriggled in anticipation of getting home, and of seeing Cassidy after his shift, fingering through my prizes as the ferry chugged sluggishly over the water. The sky and the water outside were black, the only measure of our progress the twinkling lights of the different islands, and time seemed to crawl. I caught up with Rowan, which didn’t take long—everyone was well, on both ends of the conversation, and he and Ada were looking at apartments—and then stared out the window, tapping my finger impatiently against the tabletop.</p><p>When at last we docked I rushed to disembark and teetered across the parking lot to the jeep, scrabbling to get my keys from my pocket without dropping my fragile package. I loaded it carefully and climbed in—in the quiet of the night the roar of the engine startled me, sending my heart racing—and drove home carefully through the dark.</p><p>As soon as I got home I got to work, spreading the contents of my bags across the small kitchen table and squinting down at them, planning, before I got busy. I hummed as I worked, and by the time Cassidy texted me to let me know he was leaving the mainland I was nearly finished. I was grateful for the task, something to fixate on rather than worry about him boating home in the dark, and I’d only been curled on the couch worrying for a few minutes when he burst through the door, chafing his hands together and blowing on his fingers loudly. I hopped up to greet him, my heart speeding suddenly and my palms prickly with sweat.</p><p>“’S <em>bloody </em>freezin’ out on th’ water t’night, I—” He cut off suddenly as his gaze fell on the banner that stretched across the doorway to the kitchen; brightly colored block letters against a shiny silver background, and slightly edited by me: <em>HAPPY 12<sub>O</sub><sup>TH </sup>BIRTHDAY! </em>Streamers in orange, green, and white stretched from the doorframe to the floor, creating a curtain that drifted gently in the draft from his entrance.  </p><p>“Happy birthday, Proinsias,” I said, smiling shyly. His eyes returned to mine and a grin bloomed across his face, as slow and radiant as a sunrise, and then I was airborne, shrieking happily as he spun me around in a tight circle, his arms crushing tight around me. I swayed dizzily as he set me down and he steadied me gently before pressing his lips to mine, his freezing hands cradling my cheeks.</p><p>“Thank yeh, <em>mo gréine</em>,” he murmured when we parted, and I stretched on my toes to peck his lips once more.</p><p>“Do you wanna come see?” I asked, tugging him toward the kitchen gently. Anxiety still fizzed in my chest, but when he squeezed my hand and followed with a smile it seemed to dissolve, leaving me feeling warm and excited. With a final glance up at his reassuring smile we plunged through the streamer curtain together.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate every hit!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0069"><h2>69. Sagittarius Season</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper makes good on one of her promises to Cassidy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is dedicated to MakeMe85, without whom I would never have known that Cassidy loves disco.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cass smiled down at his cake on the counter; a simple nine-inch square, vanilla with pink-tinted strawberry frosting and a layer of mixed berries hidden in the center. He turned to me and his grin went crooked, teasing.</p><p>“Yeh didn’ wanna stick a hunnert an’ twenty candles in there?” he asked, and I swatted him gently.</p><p>“I was going to! But then I was afraid they’d melt the frosting,” I admitted, gesturing to the two large packages of birthday candles I’d purchased, and he laughed. He reached for the knife and plates I’d taken out, but before he could dig in to the cake I herded him toward the table where his gift waited. His fingers brushed the plastic handle lightly before he opened it to reveal the turntable inside. “It works,” I assured him. “I checked at the store.”</p><p>“A Cherie’ll plug along forever, if yeh treat it right,” he assured me. “Bit like me, I s’pose. Thank yeh, Juniper.” He tugged me close to kiss my temple before he turned his attention to the stack of records next to the Cherie.</p><p>I flushed as he shuffled through them, suddenly defensive. “I didn’t know much of what you like, so I just got whatever looked interesting…and old,” I added, teasing, and peered over his shoulder as he perused.</p><p>He paused over a Gloria Gaynor album, fingering the worn corner of the sleeve. “Disco…<em>God, </em>I miss real disco. Th’ stuff in th’ nineties jes’ wasn’ th’ same, d’yeh know what I mean?”</p><p>“I mean…no, not really,” I said, grinning up at him, and he <em>tsked</em>. “You like disco? Really?” I squinted as I tried to picture him in the stereotypical high-waisted white bellbottoms and tight, brightly colored silky shirts; really, it didn’t seem far off at all. Instead of answering he slid the record from its cover and placed it on the turntable, adjusting the needle just so. The music made me jump when it began; the beat that came through the speakers was quick and pulsing, the guitar loud and lively, oddly out of place in our tiny kitchen. He stepped back away from me, grinning widely, as the singer began to belt; <em>You’re my honey bee! Come on and sting me!</em></p><p>I laughed as I watched him, first rolling his hips rhythmically from side to side, and then added the hitchhiker and the duckwalk and the sprinkler and half a dozen moves I couldn’t name and had never seen before, all without hesitation, as though choreographed and practiced for ages. When the next song started I joined him, trying in vain to imitate his lithe liquid movements.</p><p>“My god, <em>mo gréine</em>, didja grow up in the town from <em>Footloose</em>?” he teased, and I pummeled my fists gently against his chest as he laughed. He slid behind me and pressed his chest to my back so our bodies were flush, and then he took my hands and guided me through the motions, somehow smoothing them until I felt at least a bit competent. When the album finished he ducked his head to kiss the tender skin where my neck met my shoulder, and I sighed softly.</p><p>“If I cut the cake, will you choose the next record?” I suggested, and he kissed me again before he turned back to the record player and vinyl selection. I sliced us each a huge corner piece of cake and dragged the chairs closer together so I could rest my shoulder against his while we ate. The album he chose had a simple white cover with a brown-spotted banana on it, and the mellow music and muted singer made the kitchen feel even more cozy than it already had. Cassidy made sure to get a bit of each component on his fork—cake, frosting, raspberry, strawberry, blueberry—before he popped it into his mouth. He closed his eyes as he chewed, and his hand found mine under the table. After that first bite he shoveled the cake into his mouth faster than he could chew it, and I laughed.</p><p>“I don’ remember the las’ time I did somethin’ fer my birthday,” he said ponderously once he’d finished his cake. “Other’n jes’ notice it’d gone by, yeh know. Maybe wit’ Dennis’ ma. When yeh don’t age, they sorta stop feelin’ like milestones, d’yeh know what I mean?”</p><p>“I think so,” I said. “In theory.” I brought his hand to my lips, tracing the letters tattooed there as he sifted through the remaining records with his free hand. He picked up the last one, a Doris Day album, with a soft smile crossing his face. Its sleeve was blue, with a tiny cartoon man running away with a fistful of balloons.</p><p>“D’yeh know this one?” he asked, and I shook my head.</p><p>“I know the name,” I said. “But mostly I just liked the picture.” He tugged away from me gently to start it, and then pulled me into his lap, his arms wrapped around me and his chin resting on top of my head. The gentle crackle of the needle over the old record warmed me somehow, felt more <em>real </em>than a CD or radio, and the slow, gentle music lulled me into a daze.</p><p>When the strains of the second track started I tilted my head curiously, drawn back from the brink of a doze by the familiar tune. <em>I’m wild again…Beguiled again…A simpering, whimpering, child again…</em> A slow smile dawned on my face as recognition sank in. “This is from that Frank Sinatra movie, right?”</p><p>Cass nuzzled against my cheek, his stubble rough against my skin. “Mhm. Tha’s why I t’ought yeh knew it.” He stood, lowering me to the ground gently as he straightened. “Dance wi’ me?” I leaned into him happily enough, wrapping my arms around his waist, but he pulled back gently, moving my hand to his shoulder and then placing his palm flat against the small of my back, his elbow out like a ballroom dancer’s. Our other hands we clasped at shoulder height, and then he guided me in a slow glide around the kitchen, his cheek resting against my hair. “Thank yeh fer all this. ‘S lovely.”</p><p>“You’re welcome, Cass. Happy birthday.” The song quieted to silence and he moved to pull away, but I clung tighter, replacing my arms around his waist, swaying gently as the next track began, happy to spend all night in his arms. <br/>~~~~<br/>I was curled on the couch staring drowsily into the fire when Cassidy got home the next night, stomping inside and chafing his arms against the cold. He walked right past his second present to join me under my blanket, and I obligingly draped myself over his lap, lending him my warmth. I squeaked and flinched when he slid his frigid hands under my shirt, but wriggled closer to warm him faster.</p><p>“What’s that about?” he asked suddenly, and I grinned as I turned to take in my find—a miniature marquis sign, like the type that still advertised what movies were playing at old theatres. Michelle had cleverly hidden the letters in the back to guard against mischievous customers, so most of them were still accounted for. The sign, in bold, backlit, black letters, read <em>I WANT TO SUCK UR DICK</em>.</p><p>“Your birthday,” I said, rolling onto my back so I could look up at him. “Celebrating until the end of Sagittarius season, remember?”</p><p>“I remember,” he said, “I jes’ didn’ realise yeh meant it, I s’pose.” He ducked to kiss the tip of my nose, then contemplated the sign again. “Did it come like that? Or is th’ message custom?” he asked, his tone exaggeratedly casual.</p><p>I slid to the floor between his knees, plucking at his belt buckle. “Nope, that’s all me,” I said with a sly smile, and he lifted his hips to let me slide his pants and briefs off in one smooth motion. I kissed his exposed thighs, nipping gently, sucking lightly, and watched from the corner of my eye as his cock twitched awake. I brushed my lips over his skin from knee to hipbone, sighing warm air against him, and he hummed his approval, his hand tangling itself in my hair and his hips twitching, angling his now-ready cock toward my mouth. I laughed softly and kissed his swollen head, drawing a soft gasp, before turning my attention to his other thigh. Again I worked my way slowly and methodically up from his knee, pausing every inch and placing a light kiss, and then a sharp nip, and sucking greedily at his skin before I moved on. His breathing grew ragged, his hips rolling with my every action, and when I’d reached his cock again it was beautiful to behold; rigid and red and swollen, with thick drops of precum rolling toward the shaft. I extended my tongue, touching just the tip against his base, and licked slowly and steadily toward his head as he shivered and bucked, catching the salty precum on my tongue before I brushed my lips over his tip once and retreated to his thighs for more kisses and tender nibbles.</p><p>He groaned low in his throat, his hips grinding against nothing and his hand fisting in my hair. “Floozy,” he hissed, but he was grinning, and I breathed a chuckle against his skin. “Harlot.” I took his tip between my lips and he sighed, letting his head fall back against the couch, but after one quick swirl of my tongue I was away again, nuzzling his hip, and he released a breathy, wanting laugh. “<em>Minx.</em>”</p><p>At last I took him in my mouth, his cock heavy and hard on my tongue, and his satisfied moan flooded me with want as his fist clenched in my hair. I took him as deeply as I could, filling myself with the taste of him, the feel of him, my eyes rolled heavenward to watch his face, twisted with pleasure; his eyes squinted shut, eyebrows drawn together fiercely, his mouth open and lips peeled away from his teeth in the throes of bliss. After that first wild thrust I slowed, gentling my touch, moaning satisfaction as his face shifted from desperate need to quiet, savoring ecstasy. He loosed his hold on my hair, his palm coming to rest on the back of my neck lightly, his fingers spasming every so often as his cock twitched against my tongue.</p><p>Slowly, so slowly, his breathing grew more ragged, a tiny moan accompanying each breath, and I fought to keep my pace relaxed, though every fiber of me ached to urge him to climax. His hand found my hair again, and with each bob of my head a full-body shiver shook him from core to fingertips.</p><p>“Oh…” he groaned, and I clenched my fists against the couch, tempering my need to quicken my motions. “<em>Oh.</em>” His cock throbbed against my tongue, and when I hummed my approval he gasped. “Oh, <em>Jaysis, </em>Juniper!” And then he was there, his body rigid, hips lifting from the couch as he pumped my mouth full of hot cum. I swallowed it eagerly, my eyes on his face as his orgasm rocked him, and when he’d sunk into the cushions again I crawled up to meet him, kissing my way up his belly, over his chest, his shoulders, his neck, finding his mouth at last as I straddled his lap.</p><p>“Happy birthday again,” I murmured, resting my forehead against his, and he chuckled breathlessly.</p><p>“Thank yeh, again,” he mumbled, and crushed me against him, pressing his face to my shoulder. <br/>~~~~<br/>On the third night Cassidy’s eyes slid to the mantel as soon as he returned from work, and I laughed at the disappointment that flashed across his face and nodded at the corner by door he’d just passed through.</p><p>“It’s right there, greedy guts,” I teased, and he spun to search for his gift. It was an umbrella, and he turned to smile at me after he’d picked it up, but he seemed unsure. “Open it,” I urged, and both of us wrinkled our noses at how much I sounded like Hoover. “No, but actually. Please,” I said, and Cass began searching for the mechanism on the unwieldy cylindrical handle. “Oh, wait!” I chirped, and bounced to the wall to turn off the light—now the only glow came from the fire, and I could see he looked even more puzzled.</p><p>Then he found the release button, and as the umbrella flapped open a low hum filled the air and the shaft glowed bright, luminescent green, exposing his grin in the dark.</p><p>“That’s bloody <em>cool,</em>” he said, delighted, and I laughed.</p><p>“You can set it to any of the lightsaber colors,” I said, and he cycled through them rapidly—purple, blue, white, red, and then green again. “But I think green suits you.”</p><p>“A high compliment, <em>mo gréine</em>,” he said, closing the umbrella and leaning it reverently against the door. He joined me on the couch and kissed my cheek, squeezing my hand between both of his. “T’ank yeh.”</p><p>“You’re welcome. Happy birthday,” I added, and he kissed me.<br/>~~~~<br/>I’d stationed myself by the window the next night, eagerly waiting for Cass to arrive. I was so attentive that I heard low rumble of <em>Béal Inse’s </em>engine as he idled up to the tiny dock he’d built, and I wriggled with anticipation. His gift hung shining on the porch, and as he approached through the dark I worried suddenly that he’d miss it, but it caught his eye as he dug in his pocket for his keys, and a gentle smile bloomed across his face.</p><p>The windchimes were nearly as beautiful at night as they were in the light of day; pewter wire was twisted into the shape of the sun, with an amber stained-glass pane at its center and red and orange and yellow glass filling the rays. The Corinthian bells that hung from the lower rays caught the breeze even now, producing a gentle chime I could only just hear through the glass. He tilted his head to listen for a moment, his eyes closed, before he came in and caught me sitting at the window, grinning abashedly.</p><p>“They’re lovely, Juniper. T’ank yeh,” he said, stooping to kiss me, and then he tugged me to my feet, resting his broad hands over my hips.</p><p>“I love you,” I murmured. “Happy birthday,” I added, and he chuckled, kissing me again.<br/>~~~~<br/>The next day we were both off work, and I woke to the gentle ringing of the new windchimes. I soaked in their improvised music as I stretched luxuriously, reveling in our lack of obligations. I rolled to kiss Cassidy’s shoulder lightly before I stole downstairs to start breakfast.</p><p>Coffee was first, as usual, and as it brewed I collected ingredients—eggs, soda bread, venison bacon, a slightly shrivelled tomato and a bowl of wrinkling mushrooms. I sliced the tomato and the bread as the bacon cooked, and when it was finished I slid it out of the pan and added thick slices of bread along with the eggs and vegetables.</p><p>I’d just poured coffee and was plating the last of the eggs when Cass came downstairs, shirtless and in soft flannel pyjama pants, still yawning and scratching the great black magpie over his chest. He smiled drowsily as he took in the mess of the kitchen, and then he turned to me, starry eyed.</p><p>“I love yeh so goddamned much, yeh know that?” he asked, and I paused to peck the top of his head when I brought him his plate. I sat down across from him, watching him expectantly; he’d taken a swig from his coffee up and put it back down before he seemed to register that it was new. He picked it up again, his expression growing exasperated as he turned it in his hands. The inside was vivid red, the outside white. On one side was a brightly painted mouth, its thick sensuous lips slightly parted to reveal sharp white fangs with a drop of blood suspended from each. Across the other side was a dark red blood spatter, with gothic black text over it that read ‘this isn’t coffee’. His eyes cut across to me, singularly unimpressed, which only fueled my giddy amusement.</p><p>“Happy birthday, Cass,” I chirped, grinning widely, and he glared at me playfully with one eyebrow arched as he took another deep swig from the mug.  </p><p>“Happy birt’day yerself, yeh moron,” he grumbled, and I laughed as I dug into my eggs.<br/>~~~~<br/>Cassidy’s side of the bed was empty when I woke the next morning, and I smiled at the sound of his singing emanating from the direction of the kitchen, interspersed with the occasional soft curse as he cooked. I tugged on one of his t-shirts and padded to join him, sipping from the cup of coffee he’d placed at my spot at the table and warming when I saw that his new mug rested at his. His sixth birthday present rested at the center of the table among jars of jam and bottles of syrup—a set of salt and pepper shakers shaped into tiny chicks, wings outspread, with bits of egg shell still stuck to them.</p><p>A huge stack of pancakes appeared in front of me, fluffy and golden brown and steaming, and I got to work slathering them in strawberry jam. “I think pancakes will always make me think of Tulip,” I said, and Cassidy paused to consider the bite on his fork.</p><p>“Yeah, me too. Don’ tell her, but I prefer ‘em wit’out the m&amp;m’s.” He grinned over at me and stuffed the pancakes in his mouth, pausing now and then to douse them with more syrup.</p><p>When we’d finished and were leaning contentedly back in our chairs, he plucked one of the tiny chicks up off the table.</p><p>“Y’know, they’re cute, in t’eory. But they do make me feel like a bit of a monster, d’yeh know what I mean?”</p><p>I tilted my head, frowning. “No? Why?” Cass raised an eyebrow and flipped the tiny chick over in his hand before shaking it roughly to spill pepper over his empty plate. I snorted with laughter, clapping my hands to my face. “Oh my God, I never thought of that,” I giggled, blushing, and he grinned.</p><p>“Maybe they c’n jes’ be decorative, d’yeh think?” he asked, and I nodded, still laughing.</p><p>“I think that would be for the best, yeah. Happy birthday, Cass.”<br/>~~~~<br/>I tilted my head to listen as Cassidy’s footsteps approached the door but didn’t look up from my book, assuming an attitude of exaggerated calm, making a concerted effort to stop the eager bouncing of my knee. I shot him a smile as he entered, and when he ducked to kiss me I handed him a giftbag with tufts of gauzy tissue paper hanging over the top. He took it and lowered himself to the couch beside me, and I swung my legs over his lap to watch him open the present.</p><p>Inside the bag was a smaller package, with sleek, shiny blue wrapping paper and a glittering silver bow. Cass hummed as he tore the paper eagerly, revealing the corner of his gift. He turned it in his hands as he smoothly removed the rest of the wrapping, and then froze. His brow furrowed deeply as he looked from the gift to me and back to the DVD case in his hands.</p><p>“<em>Th’ Big Lebowski?</em>” I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth, delighted at his open disgust.   </p><p>“Give it another chance! Maybe it’ll grow on you,” I urged, and his scowl deepened.</p><p>“It will <em>not </em>bloody grow on me! It’s a shite film, is what it is! How they got <em>those</em> actors t’ lower themselves t’ <em>this </em>garbage I will never understand, I mean, Buscemi, man! John Goodman! Jeff bloody Bridges! Great actors, all of ‘em! T’ have this utter <em>shite </em>on their filmography, it’s a goddamned shame! I mean, <em>True Grit</em>? Great film. <em>Armageddon? </em>Brilliant! Bloody <em>Monsters Incorporated</em>, yeh know? Scathin’ indictment o’ artificial scarcity in capitalism. An’ then <em>this!</em>” He waved the case, his other hand jabbing the air as he ranted. “It’s a tragedy! A goddamned travesty, is what it is!”</p><p>I was gasping for air, tears streaming down my face as I giggled. “<em>Cassidy,</em>” I finally managed, cutting him off as he opened his mouth to rip off again. He scowled at me, his cheeks flushed, his jaw clenched at this unforgiveable, inexplicable, egregious betrayal. “Open it,” I said, and he sighed explosively and cracked the DVD case open.</p><p>I’d packed it full to bursting, and as the tiny baggies scattered like so much illicit confetti I was quietly grateful that I’d packaged everything rather than leaving it loose in the case. He scanned the note I’d taped to the inside of the case—<em>I might be stoned, but I’m not high</em>—and his scowl was replaced by a grin as he sorted through the bags.</p><p>“It’s nothing too crazy,” I cautioned. “Just weed and shrooms.”</p><p>“Are yeh sure about this?” He looked cautious, and I leaned to peck him on the cheek.</p><p>“I’m sure. I trust you. And I thought…maybe we could try together?” I added tentatively, and his smile widened.</p><p>“Don’ t’reaten me wit’ a good time,” he said, and leaned in to kiss me deeply.</p><p>“Happy birthday, Cassidy,” I murmured, rubbing my nose against his. “What first?”<br/>~~~~<br/>I groaned as I woke, resenting consciousness. A furious headache wrapped a tight band of pain from cheekbones to eyebrows and temple to temple. The rest of my body still felt oddly disconnected from my brain, like I’d downgraded from a cable to a dialup connection, but the pain came through loud and clear.</p><p>“Yeh alright?” Cassidy’s voice was quietly amused, and I scowled.</p><p>“This is attempted murder,” I muttered sullenly, but then his cool fingers brushed my face, rubbing tiny circles across my brow, and I sighed as the tension there eased a bit.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said, and I turned my face toward the sound of his voice. “I ferget how t’ dose fer…nonhabitual users, sometimes.”</p><p>“It’s okay,” I said, softening as he continued his ministrations. “It was fun during. Just not now.” My memories of the evening were slightly hazy, but I was sure I could recall staring fixedly into the fire for hours, spellbound by the vivid, shifting halos of color that ringed it, and Cassidy having to remind me on multiple occasions that I should blink and drink water. “What time is it?” I asked suddenly, lunging to sit up and immediately punished with a violent throb of pain. “We have work.”</p><p>Cass pressed a glass of water into my hands and I drained it, abruptly aware of how dry my mouth was. “I called in fer bot’ of us when I realized how far gone yeh were,” he said, and I found myself torn between indignation and appreciation. “An’ I t’ought, if yeh’re feelin’ better later, maybe we could get out fer a bit?”</p><p>I kissed him on the cheek lightly and laid back down, leaning into the gratitude and trying to ignore my concern over our lost wages. Cassidy clumped downstairs and returned a moment later, my glass refilled, and tucked himself behind me, spooning me, his fingers resuming their soothing course over my forehead.</p><p>As the light outside shifted from bright midday to the haze of late afternoon I began to come back to myself, helped along by nibbles of toast and sips of water. The distance between my brain and my body shrank until it was barely noticeable, and under Cassidy’s clever fingers the headache faded away and disappeared. The only hindrance to my recovery was Cass himself—it felt like he checked in every twenty minutes, reassuring himself over and over that I was on the mend, to my endless exasperation.</p><p>I sighed as I heard him ascending the stairs again, but when he sat on the bed next to me and took my hand I couldn’t hang on to my annoyance.</p><p>“Are yeh feelin’ well enough t’ go out somewhere?” he asked. His eyes kept sliding to the slowly dimming sky outside the window, and his knee bounced anxiously.</p><p>“Yeah, I’m okay. Where are we going?” I asked, standing to dress.</p><p>“Just out,” he said, maddeningly vague, and I sighed.</p><p>“Do you want to wait until after sunset, at least?” He shook his head quickly, and I shrugged and followed him to the door, grinning when he grabbed his lightsaber umbrella rather than his plain black one.</p><p>Cassidy was uncharacteristically quiet as he drove, though his fingers tapped a quick, nervous tattoo against the steering wheel. After a few minutes of this I took his hand in both of mine, squeezing it reassuringly, and he <em>whooshed </em>out a great sigh, shooting me a smile. Our route took us through East Sound, but rather than swinging south toward the ferry dock he turned onto a small road that took us north; one I’d never been on before.</p><p>“Where are we <em>going?</em>” I asked again, but he only grinned and shook his head, and I huffed indignantly. He eased the jeep onto a tiny dirt road and when it dead ended he parked and met me at my door, pausing to grab something from the trunk. When I hopped from the jeep he was holding my jacket and I tugged it on, grateful for the extra warmth.</p><p>“I knew yeh wouldn’ bloody dress warm enough,” he said, and I wrinkled my nose indignantly. With another quick glance at the sky he strode into the woods, his footing sure and confident though there was no visible trail through the thick underbrush, and I followed, scrambling to catch up with him and taking his gloved hand.</p><p>The walk felt long; the woods were silent other than the sound of our footsteps and the crashing of waves that seemed to come from all around, but when I emerged through the treeline the sun still hung suspended low over the water, dyeing the sky around it a burnt yellowy orange that deepened to blue and then purple behind us in the east, and searing a fiery streak of gold over the water from the horizon to the wet stone at my feet. The rolling ocean waves crashed against the rock, throwing spray into the air that caught the light and scattered prisms over the shore and the trees. I was so spellbound that it took me a moment to realize Cass wasn’t with me—of course he wasn’t, with the sun’s deadly beams flaring over the water—but had paused deep in the trees, peering cautiously around one of the thick trunks and returning my smile as I joined him.</p><p>“What are we doing, Cassidy?” I asked, glancing back over my shoulder to the brightly lit sky.</p><p>“We’re watchin’ th’ sunset together, yeh silly thing,” he said, brushing his lips over my forehead, and I felt a swell of dismay at the gesture.</p><p>“But…but you can’t, I don’t want you to be standing here in the dark and the cold just <em>waiting</em> for me,” I protested, and he squeezed my hands gently.</p><p>“No, look, look here, I got meself all decked out,” he soothed. He tugged his phone from his pocket and opened the front-facing camera. He then turned his back to the sun, protected by the tree trunk he leaned on, and poked just the camera out from his shelter so that the ocean was captured on the screen. “Eh? All charged up an’ ready, we’re good to go.”</p><p>“I just—” I wanted to protest. I didn’t want him to watch the sunset on a screen, I wanted to watch it together for <em>real</em>. But that was impossible, and bringing it up would only hurt him, remind him of the things he couldn’t do, so I swallowed my complaints and kissed him. “I love this. Thank you, Cassidy.” I sat down next to his tree, and he slid his back down the trunk to join me, one elbow propped on his knee to hold his phone and the fingers of his free hand twining with mine tightly. I rested my head on his shoulder, and he rested his cheek against my hair, and I could almost forget that our date was abnormal at all.</p><p>Soft strains of piano came from my left, but when I turned to investigate Cassidy brushed his lips over my cheekbone lightly. “Sh. Jes’ watch,” he murmured, and I kissed his shoulder before turning my eyes back to the slowly sinking sun. A violin joined the piano, and vague familiarity nagged at the back of my mind, but I let it go, trying to follow his instruction<em>. </em></p><p>
  <em>I’ve waited a hundred years, but I’d wait a million more for you…</em>
</p><p>Tears sprang to my eyes as quickly as though he’d turned on a spigot, breaking my heart with the deep relevance of the soft words, and he seemed to notice and pressed his lips to my hair.</p><p>
  <em>Nothing prepared me for what the privilege of being yours would do…</em>
</p><p>I rubbed my cheek against his shoulder, swallowing hard and restraining a sniffle, and felt his lips curve into a smile.</p><p>
  <em>If I had only felt the warmth within your touch<br/>If I had only seen how you smile when you blush<br/>Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough<br/>I woulda known, what I was livin’ for, all along…what I’ve been living for…</em>
</p><p>The piano picked up, swelling into a crescendo, and recognition flashed again, surer this time. I leaned away, turning to look at him. “This is from <em>Twilight</em>, right?”</p><p>He flushed and scrambled to his feet, tugging me up with him. “Well—I mean, I din’t…I din’t <em>know</em> that, but it’s <em>relevant</em>—look now, lissen—<em>ow! Shite!</em>” In his anxious gesticulating he’d stumbled into the sunlight, singeing the back of his neck, and he rubbed it gingerly for a moment, grimacing.</p><p>
  <em>I surrender who I’ve been for who you are<br/>Nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart<br/>If I had only felt how it feels to be yours<br/>I would have known what I’ve been living for, all along…</em>
</p><p>He took a deep breath, gathering himself, and then took my hands in his, staring intently into my face, and I felt myself flushing. “Juniper,” he began, suddenly solemn, and I felt my eyebrows rise. “Before…before we met, I hadn’ really felt like I had a home fer…well, fer a long time. An’ then you came along an’—barrin’ th’ firs’ few weeks there, yeh know—” He cracked a crooked smile, and I returned it, my eyes watery. “Yeh jes’ took me as I am. No questions asked. Even when yeh got t’ know th’ bad parts, the not so nice bits o’ who an’ what I am. Yeh’ve cared fer me when I’m at my wors’, and tole me t’ get my head outta my ass, when it’s called for—an’ I know that’s bin a lot. Yeh challenge me every day, yeh know, make me wanna be better, wit’out makin’ me feel less than fer needin’ improvin’. Yeh make me feel tethered, an’ like a real part o’ this world, instead o’ jes’ bein’ adrift an’ wanderin’, waitin’ fer th’ next interestin’ t’ing t’ happen.” He took a deep breath and lowered himself carefully to one knee, and my breath caught in my throat, my hands suddenly shaking in his. He swept his thumbs over my knuckles, smiling reassuringly up at me before he went on. “Yeh’re my home, Juniper Guidry, an’ I wanna be wit’ yeh as long as you live. Will you marry me?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! I hope you loved it!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0070"><h2>70. As Long as We Both Shall Live</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper gives Cassidy an answer, but life is disrupted by unexpected visitors.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I stood frozen, my breath hitching in my chest, happy tears streaming down my cheeks and growing cold on my face with the chill December wind. Cass waited patiently, smiling expectantly up at me, but as the song he’d played for me wound to a gentle close his smile flickered, his eyes growing anxious.</p><p>“Juniper? Did I…Did I break yeh?” he asked. His tone was light, but I could see tension rising in his shoulders, and I clasped his face between my palms.</p><p>“Yes!” I burst out, grinning wildly, and then a deep blush rose in my cheeks. “I mean, yes, yes I’ll marry you! Not yes I’m broken.”</p><p>His face split in an ecstatic smile and he scooped me into his arms, swinging me in a tight circle—the trees that surrounded us kept spinning when he set me carefully back on my feet, and I swayed for a moment. He peppered my face with kisses, eyelids and cheeks and nose and chin and forehead, but then suddenly he pulled away, dropping to one knee again with a thump that made me wince. He dug in his back pocket, holding up a single finger in a request to wait, and produced a tiny blue box.</p><p>“Oh my <em>god, </em>Proinsias,” I gasped. He took my left hand gently, his face serious but his eyes dancing, and my right rose to cover my face against the deliriously happy laughter that threatened to interrupt the moment. He slid a thin silver band onto my third finger; where I would have expected a stone a pair of hands cradled a tiny crowned heart. I turned my hand so the silver shone in the low light, admiring it, and he stood, his brow furrowing again, his expression anxious.</p><p>“I know ‘s probably not what yeh always dreamed of, yeh know, wit’ a big diamond an’ that. I c’n get yeh one o’ those, if it’s what yeh want, but these—Claddagh rings, they’re called—they’re a tradition in Ireland, an’ when I saw it I jes’—"</p><p>I pressed my hand to his lips gently, silencing him. “It’s perfect. I love it. I love <em>you.</em>” He seemed to sag with relief, and I wrapped my arms around him, crushing him to me with all my strength, peeking over his shoulder to continue admiring the ring. “When did you? See it, I mean,” I asked when I pulled away, and he ducked his head, grinning.</p><p>“The firs’ day in Anacortes, yeh remember? When we were in Michelle’s store an’ yeh were off lookin’ at knickknacks an’ whatnot.”</p><p>My mouth fell open, floundering. “You’ve had this for two <em>months?!</em>” I paused, and then was struck by the depths of Michelle’s betrayal. “Michelle’s <em>known you had this </em>for two months?! We are going to be having <em>words.</em>”</p><p>He snickered at my outrage. “Yup. Pretty sure she caught ont’ what was happenin’ when I called in fer yer shift t’day, I’m sure she’ll wanna hear all about it.” He looped his arm through mine and we started back through the woods to the jeep. It should have been eerie there, in the cold, dusky forest, but I bounced as we walked, my smile so wide that my cheeks were aching. I clung to him, frantic with joy, feeling that I might float away if he didn’t ground me.</p><p>“I have to call Mama. And Tulip! Tulip’s gonna flip when you tell her you’ve gone sappy enough to get <em>married</em>,” I teased, poking him playfully in the ribs. “When do you wanna do it? I guess outdoors would be out, huh, unless we do like a canopy thing? And who’ll witness? I want Tulip, obviously, and maybe Rowan could stand for you? As a groomsman? Would that be weird?” He was laughing again, and I realized I was babbling, my mind flying a million miles a minute in every direction.</p><p>“Well, firs’ t’ing <em>I’ll</em> have t’ do is get some documents made up. Birt’ certificate, drivers license an’ whatnot fer Cassidy O’Flanahan,” he said. “I use t’ know a guy in Vegas, I c’n reach out to him an’ see if he’s still doin’ business.”</p><p>I deflated, my excitement dampened a bit. “But…I want to be Juniper Cassidy,” I protested weakly, savoring the cadence as it crossed my lips, and he halted to kiss me sweetly, cradling my chin in his fingers.</p><p>“Yeh don’ know how much I’d love that,” he said, beaming down at me. “But even <em>if </em>I could find my original birt’ certificate—I t’ink it’s in a lockbox in New York, maybe—t’ere’s no proper preacher gonna perform a weddin’ fer a man who says he was born in th’ year nineteen hundred.”</p><p>“Are you sure there’s not a way?” I pressed, trying not to sound too put out. “I just…it’ll feel more <em>real</em>, if the papers have your birth name, you know?”</p><p>Cass pursed his lips, then a slow smile crossed his face. “Well. We might know <em>one </em>proper preacher who’d officiate a vampire weddin’,” he said, and I stared at him, puzzled, until his meaning dawned on me.</p><p>“Jesse Custer is <em>not </em>officiating our wedding,” I sniffed, and spun on my heel to continue toward the jeep. “I prefer the fake name over <em>that</em>.” He laughed and took my arm again, pressing his lips to my temple.</p><p>“We c’n be th’ Cassidy’s at home. Always,” he assured me and at the thought my heart fluttered wildly again and I pressed my face to his shoulder, squealing softly.</p><p>When we reached the jeep he opened my door for me and lifted me in gently, pausing to kiss me once; lingering, sweet, and slow, pregnant with the promise of a million more to come. When he tried to pull away I clung tight to him, pressing my face to his neck and treasuring the realness of him under my hands, the warm copper and leather scent of him, the dizzy school-girl butterflies he still managed to elicit after months together.</p><p>“I love you <em>so much</em>, Proinsias,” I murmured, but the words felt too small for this moment, and all I could do was squeeze him to me with every ounce of my strength and hope the depth of my feelings reached him through some kind of osmosis. “I can’t wait to be your wife.” The words sent a thrill through me and I pressed my lips to his eagerly, swallowing his low chuckle.</p><p>“An’ I can’t wait t’ be yer husband,” he said when I freed him, and laughed again as I squealed against his neck. “D’yeh wanna go home, fiancé o’ mine?” Electric, ecstatic glee filled me at the title, and all I could do was nod, grinning too widely to speak. He gently extricated himself from my grip and climbed into the drivers seat, and when I rested my hand over his over the gearshift he caught my fingers between his and gave them a gentle squeeze. I couldn’t take my eyes from his face as we drove home through the dark—a soft, peaceful smile curved his lips, and every few seconds his eyes would cut from the road to our interlaced hands and the ring that now adorned my finger. I was still watching him when we pulled into the driveway and he cut the engine, and I saw his demeanor shift suddenly—the way his nostrils flared as though scenting the air, how his lips peeled back from his teeth to expose his fangs, his posture shifting from easy relaxation to the lithe, spring-loaded tension of a predator.</p><p>“Cass?” I murmured hesitantly, but he shushed me without taking his eyes from the house.</p><p>“They’ve found me again. Vampire hunters,” he spat, and the rumbling snarl under his speech sent a wave of goosebumps down my arms. He turned to me, his eyes dark, his mouth taut. “Lissen t’ me, Juniper. <em>Stay. Here.</em>”</p><p>“No! I can <em>help!</em>” I began to protest, but he silenced me with a growl and I recoiled, hurt.</p><p>“An’ have ‘em after you an’ yer family as well? Absolutely <em>not</em>.” He opened the door, slowly and silently. “If anyone but me comes back out, you <em>drive,</em> understood? An’ yeh don’ come back here. I’ll find you.”</p><p>“Cassidy—” I began, my chest tight, but he shushed me, gentle now, cradling my cheek in his hand. His voice when he spoke again was soft, reassuring, but his words were just slightly marred as he spoke around his bared fangs.</p><p>“I’ll be alright. Las’ time th’ morons still t’ought they could hurt me wit’ holy water an’ wooden stakes. You’ve nothin’ t’ fret over.” He leaned to kiss me briefly. “I jes’ don’ need t’ be worryin’ over you while I’m evisceratin’ ‘em, is all. <em>Promise </em>you’ll stay here.”</p><p>I sighed softly, clinging to him. “Alright,” I finally muttered. “Be careful. Please.” He moved to pull away but I clutched his hand to my cheek a moment more, pressing my lips to his palm.</p><p>“I will. I’ll see yeh in a minute.” His teeth flashed white in the dark as he grinned, and then he was gone.</p><p>I slid carefully to the driver’s seat, my eyes glued to him as he crept through the dark to the door, his breath misting in the chill night air, and then inside. My fists clenched over the wheel, still warm from his hands, and I tried to quiet my shallow, frightened breathing. I scanned the house, trying to figure out what had tipped him off, but I couldn’t spot anything out of place. Maybe it was nothing. A moment of paranoia, fear that things were going <em>too </em>well, and something had to give.</p><p>There was a low, concussive thump from inside, like a firework—but of course it wasn’t. I was halfway to the door before I realized I’d made the decision to move, and when I reached the porch I was spurred on by Cassidy’s low, pained groaning. I burst through the door, wild-eyed, hurdling Cassidy’s writhing body, scenting the air even as my nose was still stretching into a snout. There—nothing more than a silhouette in the dark, gun raised, shoulders squared, features impossible to read in the inky-black shadow cast by the stairs to the loft. I roared a challenge, stalking toward them on legs that were still shooting upward, ready to tear, to fight and maim—looking forward to it.</p><p>“Oh, are you two <em>fucking</em> kidding me?” I halted as though I’d struck a wall, my head tilting. “Quit bein’ so goddamn overdramatic, wouldja?”</p><p>Tulip.<br/>~~~~<br/>“I <em>tried </em>to tell him it was me,” Tulip said, glaring at Cassidy across the table. His face was drawn, pale with pain, and his right leg swung pendulously below the knee any time his weight shifted. “But he was doin’ his feral vampire thing.” I sighed softly as I fished through the kitchen drawer, stifling my annoyance.</p><p>“Well, next time can yeh try harder instead o’ kneecappin’ me? Christ, woman,” he snapped grumpily, and as I returned to the table I brushed my lips lightly over his sweat-dampened hair.</p><p>“A phone call might have been good. Or a note or something,” I gently chided Tulip, but I reached across the table to squeeze her hand warmly, too glad to see her to be really upset. She returned it with a bare hint of a smile, and I turned to Cassidy. “Are you okay to do this right now?” I asked, and for the first time he seemed to register the objects I’d laid out over the tabletop—a needle and vacutainer holder, alcohol, gauze, tourniquet and mug—his <em>this isn’t coffee</em> one, of course. I grinned at him expectantly as his eyes fell on it, but his eyebrows drew together into a deep frown.</p><p>“Wait now, wait a second, we said this idea was only fer <em>emergencies</em>,” he protested, and I glared.</p><p>“Your kneecap is in a million pieces. You can’t walk. You’re bleeding all over our floor. It counts.” I said sternly. “You’ve used more needles than me though, so can you help me out?” Before he could protest further I tied the tourniquet around my arm, yanking it tight with my teeth. “I’m gonna do it either way,” I said when he still hesitated, my words muffled by the thick elastic strap. “You’re less likely to fuck it up.”</p><p>He scowled but opened the package of the needle and took my arm gently in his hands, and I turned my attention to Tulip, eager for a distraction as he worked. She was staring openly, her eyebrows raised, lips slightly parted. “So um. Where’s Jesus?” I asked, trying to ignore Cassidy’s gentle taps against the crook of my elbow.</p><p>She rolled her eyes, her lip curling disdainfully. “Oh, <em>him. </em>We weren’t even gone a day and he wimped out, decided to go back to the Grail like a baby.”</p><p>“Cold,” Cassidy warned, just before the icy wetness of an alcohol swab made me shiver.</p><p>“So you’ve been alone? Why didn’t—” I gasped sharply at the sting of the needle, then let it out slowly as the pain eased, flexing my fist absently to encourage blood flow. “Why didn’t you call? Or visit?” I hesitated before I reached across the table to cover her hand with my free one. “We missed you.”</p><p>“Speak fer yerself,” Cass grumbled sulkily, and I shushed him.</p><p>“I was with Humperdoo. In hiding,” Tulip explained, and my brow furrowed at the familiar name.</p><p>“Humperdoo? Jesus’ idjit great great...great-great grandson?” Cassidy’s grudge was suddenly forgotten, overcome by curiosity.</p><p>“<em>Don’t </em>call him that,” Tulip snapped, and I blinked. “I took him after God killed Jesse, I was gonna—”</p><p>“God <em>what?!</em>” I blurted, my eyes wide with horror and surprise. Tulip pressed her lips together, her knuckles white on the table.</p><p>“He killed Jesse,” she said shortly, and I got the strong sense that was all we were going to hear about it. “So I took Humperdoo.” She’d hurried on without giving us the chance to offer useless condolences, but when I squeezed her hand again she wound her fingers with mine and returned the pressure. “Only thing He cares about, right? I was gonna kill Hump in front of Him, make Him hurt.” There was another sting as Cass withdrew the needle, a dull ache as he pressed a square of gauze against the puncture. I took over the pressure and he drained the mug greedily, sighing with relief as his shattered kneecap knit itself back together.</p><p>“You <em>were </em>gonna kill him, yeh said. So what happened?” Cassidy flexed his leg a few times, testing it, before he rose to wash the mug and dispose of the kit.</p><p>“Bastard never showed. Hid away from me like a <em>goddamn coward!</em>” She shouted the last at the ceiling, glaring upward, though all of us knew that wherever God was at that moment, He wasn’t in Heaven. “So I waited, figured eventually He’d show and I could get Jesse back, or at least hurt Him real bad. But he never did. Then last week the Grail came for Humperdoo.” Her face twisted with helpless rage and hurt, and I brushed my thumb over her knuckles. “We gotta get him back.”</p><p>Cass and I exchanged glances, neither of us wanting to be the first to speak. After a moment I turned back to Tulip, taking a deep, bracing breath. “But…I mean, the Grail won’t…hurt him, right?” I said tentatively, and storm clouds rolled across her face. “He’s safe with them. After all the shit we went through with them last time, can’t we just…not?”</p><p>Her nostrils flared minutely, and I tugged my hand from hers quickly, bracing for a torrent of rage. “<em>No, </em>we can’t just fuckin’ <em>not</em>, because they’re gonna use him to end the world!”</p><p>“Now jes’ hold on—” Cass began.</p><p>“They’re going to <em>what?!</em>” I yelped. “How?”</p><p>“I—” Tulip began fiercely, then seemed to deflate a bit. “I don’t know. But I know they’ll <em>do it! </em>They nuked Australia already, you think they can’t do that again?”</p><p>Cassidy’s face grew pensive, far away. “Y’know, I do remember hearin’ about that. T’ought it was th’ Kiwis what did that.”</p><p>“Well it <em>wasn’t</em>,” Tulip snapped. She leaned forward, clasping her hands on the table. “I’m goin’, whether you two come with me or not. But if they get their way, all this shit—” She waved her hand at the cabin around us. “Your little <em>home sign</em>, and your <em>wind chimes</em>, your whole cutesie little cottage<em>,</em> it’s all gonna be gone. All of it.” With that she leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest, watching us expectantly.</p><p>Cassidy’s hand found mine, and I searched his face but his expression was carefully blank. I watched as he idly fingered my engagement ring; the motion made it gleam in the low light. The idea of returning to Masada filled me with dread; I shuddered as I recalled the terrifying helplessness of wandering its halls, knowing Cassidy was trapped there somewhere but powerless to help. The thought of seeing him hurting and haunted as he’d been when he’d finally escaped, the way he sometimes still woke me from a dead sleep for reassurance that I was here, and real…my fingers tightened convulsively over his, and he brushed his thumb over the back of my hand gently.</p><p>And yet. My gaze swept over the kitchen—the growing collection of sea glass that rested on the windowsill, the mismatched novelty mugs I adored, the silly art that adorned the walls, hiding the most stubborn of the graffiti. The possibility of losing it all when I’d been offered a chance to try to save it made my heart ache.</p><p>“I’m in,” I said reluctantly, and I saw Cassidy’s eyebrows twitch upward, the muscle of his jaw bunched for a moment before he flashed a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.</p><p>“Alright. I s’pose we’re gonna save th’ world, then.”</p><p>“<em>Good</em>,” Tulip said with a nod, and fanned three plane tickets across the table—issued to Cassidy O’Flanahan, Tulip O’Hare, and Juniper Custer—that would take us from Seattle to New York to France to Jerusalem, departing promptly at eight forty-five the next morning. The frankly stamped time and date, turning the possibility of Masada to stark reality, shrank my stomach to a shriveled, hardened peach pit.</p><p>Cass reached for one, turning it in his hands. “Tomorrow. Jaysis.” A sardonic smile twisted his lips, and he scoffed as he replaced the ticket on the table.</p><p>“Hell yeah <em>tomorrow</em>, we don’t have time to wait around!” Tulip snapped, crackling with energy.</p><p>“I know, Tulip, it’s just…a lot,” I said, watching Cassidy carefully. He stood abruptly, pressing a kiss to my hair.</p><p>“I’m gonna go an’ call Rose-Marie an’ Michelle. Let ‘em know we won’t be in t’morrow.” I caught his hand, squeezing it tightly, and he flashed me a smile before he disappeared out onto the porch.</p><p>“I’m making hot chocolate,” I announced abruptly, and pulled a pot from the cupboard with a clang. We were silent for a while, me whisking the cocoa and sugar and milk and Tulip baldly staring around at the home Cass and I had made for ourselves. “We’re not in a homeowners association,” I blurted—somehow it felt important that she know we weren’t <em>that</em> boring. “We’re squatting, actually.”</p><p>She barked a laugh, her expression approving. “Well good, ‘cause I’m not gonna try to take down a buncha crypto-fascist assholes with a pair of upstanding citizens.” She grew serious again as I placed a mug in front of her; it was one Cass had brought home, shaped into a wolf’s head, its howling mouth forming the opening and its tail shaped into a handle. “You guys seem happy. I wouldna come if I thought I could do it alone.” She wrapped her hands around her cup and took a cautious sip, closing her eyes. We jumped as the thwack of the screen door announced Cassidy’s return, but he simply brushed his fingers over my shoulder and disappeared upstairs without a word.</p><p>“I know,” I assured her. “I’m glad you came to us.”</p><p>“Cass ain’t,” she said, her eyes flicking toward the loft, and I managed a tight smile.</p><p>“He’ll come around. I think being shot was a shock to the system. He hadn’t been grievously injured in like…almost three months, if you believe that.” At that she snorted, her shoulders shaking with quiet laughter, and for a minute things felt almost normal. “Do you wanna talk about Jesse?” I asked, and she sobered.</p><p>“Not much to talk about,” she said shortly. “I found him, in Australia. And then God killed him.” I reached for her hand again, but she gave a quick shake of her head and I obediently pulled back. She sipped at her hot chocolate, her eyes on the table, pensive. “We gotta get Hump back from those guys, Juniper. We <em>gotta.</em>”</p><p>I sighed softly. A quiet, guilty part of me wondered if having someone with the ability to end the world loose in it was a good idea, whether there might be a safer solution, and I tried to quash it. “What’s he like?” I asked, and a soft smile curved her lips.</p><p>“He’s…He’s peaceful. Like he sees all your shit, and doesn’t care, and just loves you. Or maybe he doesn’t even see it. I don’t know if he <em>can </em>see the bad in people. I kidnapped him, and put a gun to his head, and strapped bombs to him, and he still looked at me like I was the greatest thing since fuckin’…I dunno, m&amp;m pancakes. He made me feel like I’m not a fuckup.”</p><p>“You’re <em>not </em>a fuckup,” I said emphatically, and she rolled her eyes.</p><p>“Yeah, everyone s<em>ays </em>that. But he made me <em>feel </em>it, and he didn’t even have to say anything. He’s different.” She drained her mug and stood, hands on her hips. “Cool if I stay here tonight?”</p><p>“Stupid question,” I said, and she smiled.  </p><p>Once Tulip was settled on the sofa I joined Cass upstairs, my steps heavy and slow. He shot me a strained half-smile from where he sat on the bed, folding clothes and stacking them carefully in our duffel bag, and I began rummaging through my side of the dresser, tossing clothes onto the bed. We packed in silence, and when we’d stuffed the bag full of everything we might possibly need for halting an apocalypse, we curled in bed together, my head resting on his chest.</p><p>I tried to be still, though my mind raced and my heart pounded; if Cassidy could get any rest, I wanted him to. But the minutes spun out longer and longer, and when his usual snores still didn’t come I chanced a whisper.</p><p>“Are you awake?” I scarcely breathed it, but immediately he pulled me closer in the dark.</p><p>“I’m here, <em>mo gréine</em>,” he murmured against my hair, and a soft, sighing sob escaped me. His fingers took up their familiar tracing, shoulder to elbow, and I synced my breathing with his to slow it.</p><p>“Are you…Are you okay to do this? To go back?” It felt silly to ask; his hand stilled in its path.</p><p>“No,” he finally said. “Are you?”</p><p>“No,” I breathed, and he squeezed me closer, pressing his lips to my forehead. “But I think we have to.”</p><p>“I know.” He was quiet for a long time then, though his fingers had taken up their course along my arm again, tracing the twisted scar there. “If Humperdoo is how they’re goin’ t’ end th’ world, an’ that’s what they mean t’ do, jes’ rescuin’ him isn’ enough. They’ll keep comin’. Yeh understand?”</p><p>“Yeah,” I murmured, and my heart ached for Tulip. “I know.”</p><p>“Good,” he said dully, and went quiet again. “It’s a shame…” he started after a moment, and hesitated.</p><p>“What?” I shifted to rest my chin on his chest, though in the dark all I could see was the gleam of his eyes.</p><p>“I wish th’ timin’ were a little different, is all,” he finally whispered. “If we’re gonna go marchin’ into th’ jaws o’ death, yeh know, it woulda been nice t’ be married first.” I pressed my face to his chest, squeezing my eyes shut against tears, and he stroked my back softly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’a said anythin’.”</p><p>I shook my head, brushing kisses over his skin. “It’s okay, it’s true.” I hesitated, deliberating, a shy flush rising in my cheeks, before I raised my head to peer down at him as best I could in the starlight that filtered in through the window. “Do you, Proinsias Cassidy,” I began, my cheeks flaming, “take me to be your…your wife? In sickness and in health, and richer and poorer, as long as we both shall live?”</p><p>His teeth shone as he smiled crookedly in the dark, and he cradled my face gently, sweeping the pad of his thumb along my cheekbone. “’Course I do.” I kissed his palm lightly and then watched him, waiting breathlessly. “An’ do you, Juniper Guidry, take me as yer husband? In good times an’ bad, sickness an’ health, for all the days of your…of our lives?”</p><p>“I do,” I whispered, tears spilling over again, and he caught my left hand and very gently removed my ring, turning it so that the point of the heart was toward me. That done, he kissed his way along my jaw to my ear; his breath was warm against my neck as he whispered.</p><p>“I now pronounce us man an’ wife,” he said. “May I kiss my bride?” I pressed my lips to his hard, tangling my fingers in his curls, and he wrapped his arms tight around me, crushing me against his chest. “I love yeh, Juniper Cassidy,” he murmured, and I sighed against his skin.</p><p>“I love you too, Proinsias.” I slid back down to his side, pressed flush against him, rubbing my cheek against his chest. “<em>But—</em>” I added, and I felt him tense for a moment. “If we survive, we’re still doing a real wedding. A big one.” Again his teeth gleamed in the dark as he laughed softly.</p><p>“If we survive, <em>mo gréine</em>, I wouldn’ have it any other way.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you, as always, for reading! I can't believe we've reached the 200,000 word mark! I've absolutely loved crafting this story and Juniper and her family, and I hope you've come to like her as well!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0071"><h2>71. Dancing Around Goodbye</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper, Tulip, and Cassidy prepare to storm Masada and rescue Humperdoo.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After the chill and damp of Orcas Island’s winter, the desert air of Masada grated against my whole being, left me squinting against the dry heat that seemed to suck the moisture from my skin, my lips, even my eyes, leaving them gritty and sticky. I watched Cass anxiously as he straightened out of the Chevelle, but he was careful, and there was no telltale sizzling, though from where I stood, the strap of our duffel bag digging into my shoulder, I could see sweat popping out over his upper lip already.</p><p>The Holy Bar and Grail appeared to have borne the brunt of the Archangel and his Demoness and their sworn animosity and forbidden love. There were great pitted holes in the walls through which I could see into the motel rooms, and the sign had been battered to pieces and was missing letters. There was an immense pile of bodies outside, most burned beyond recognition but some fresh—the Archangel in various states of dismemberment, his feathers spattered in blood, and a woman; a beautiful woman with softly waving dark hair and a long, scaled and spaded tail. Kamal was dragging yet another corpse to the pile when we’d arrived, but when we exited the Chevelle he let it drop gracelessly to the dust to greet us. He seemed to have aged ten years in the months since we left; the hair at his temples had greyed, and there were deep lines around his eyes that hadn’t been there before. A biproduct of your only clientele destroying your life’s work, I supposed. But he smiled warmly as we approached, opening his arms to us, and when I reached him he planted a bristly kiss on each of my cheeks.</p><p>“Juniper,” he said warmly. “You look well.”</p><p>“Thanks. You too,” I lied, and he scoffed good-naturedly, smiling. He turned to Tulip, but wisely omitted the kisses, simply clasping one of her hands between both of his.</p><p>“<em>Nisa</em>. I am so sorry to hear about Jesse. He seemed a good man.”</p><p>“Thanks, Kamal,” Tulip said shortly, and brushed around him to head inside. Kamal watched her go, his shoulders sagging.</p><p>“’S not you, mate, don’ worry about it,” Cass assured him, tugging his scarf further over his forehead. Kamal’s wide smile returned and he pumped Cassidy’s gloved hand enthusiastically, pulling him closer to slap him on the back, so hard that Cass flinched.</p><p>“Mr. Cassidy! It will be good to have a strong man around. These bodies are heavy, and I am not as young as I used to be.” He gestured to the bodies that still lay scattered over the sand, blood pooling beneath them. There was a flash of light from behind the building, bright enough to be visible even in the evening desert sun, and Kamal’s smile faded as he loosed a longsuffering sigh.</p><p>“Can’t believe th’ bastard, leavin’ bodies all over yer place an’ not even cleanin’ up after himself. Yeah, I c’n help wit’ that,” Cass said gamely. “Tomorrow, yeah?” Kamal nodded gratefully and stooped to grab the scaled tail of the corpse at his feet, resuming his slow, trundling course toward the pile opposite the parking lot.</p><p>A fierce wind beat against me, flinging sand in every direction, and Cass ducked his head, pulling his scarf closer around his face. When I’d rubbed the grit from my eyes the Archangel was grinning at us, his fine white wings spread wide and sword in hand. I found myself reaching for him, my fingers outstretched, aching to touch the beautiful feathers, and jammed my hand into my pocket, blushing.</p><p>“The young lovers! We’re surprised to see you two coming back round these parts, what is it that—” He cut off with a hoarse gurgle as the point of a knife ruptured his Adams apple. The Demoness wrenched her weapon sideways, and hot blood splashed across our faces as he fell to his knees. I stretched toward him helplessly as the Demoness spun to watch for his return, readying herself for his retribution before his body had hit the ground.</p><p>I flinched against a blinding flash, and when the afterimage cleared from my vision he was back, striding toward us across the sand. The Demoness shrieked a challenge and lunged for him, her sword raised, but when he dropped his weapon and held his hands out in helpless appeal she halted, her long tail lashing, like a cat that hasn’t decided whether you’re worth the effort of attacking.</p><p>“My beloved, we have <em>guests!</em>” he said, gesturing to us, and his wings folded, then seemed to shrink in on themselves even further, disappearing at last into his back with the low rush of air filling a vacuum. After a moment of suspicious contemplation she slid the sword into a sheath that rested between her shoulder blades and her tail disappeared under her dress, receding like a slurped spaghetti noodle. They approached us hand in hand, his smile wide and warm, her mouth set and eyes watchful, and both seemed completely undisturbed by the fact that they stood over the Archangel’s cooling body. “The vampire and his werewolf! Forbidden love—like ours,” he said, and the faintest of smiles curved her lips.</p><p>“I t’ink a little less dramatic than what yeh’ve got goin’ on here,” Cassidy said with a grin, but he wrapped an arm around my waist, tugging me closer, and I pressed happily into his side.</p><p>The Archangel’s eyes fell to my ring then, and he snatched at my hand; I stumbled forward with the force of his enthusiasm. He turned his head to examine it with one eye, looking for all the world like a crow that’s spotted something of interest, and his grin grew wider, nearly manic as he beamed at us.</p><p>“<em>And </em>you’ve made it permanent! As well as mortals can, you know. Is this the honeymoon, then? Odd choice, I’d have thought bonnie Ireland.” My smile withered with the question—swept up in his animated greeting, I’d nearly forgotten why we were there.</p><p>“No,” I said reluctantly. “The Grail has…has a friend of ours.”</p><p>Exasperation and disbelief flitted across his face. “What, <em>again? </em>Course they do. Rotten bastards.”</p><p>Cassidy’s face grew contemplative as he gazed in the direction of Masada. “Could yeh do us a favor, mate?” he asked suddenly, and the Archangel raised his eyebrows, curious. “Could yeh do a flyover, like, see if they closed off their thermal exhaust port?”</p><p>“Their <em>what?</em>” the Archangel and I chorused, and Cass scoffed.</p><p>“Th-th-the bloody—the <em>chimney</em> thing, the way we got out th’ firs’ time!” One long hand flapped upward as he spoke, and understanding filled the Archangel’s face.</p><p>“<em>Ah, </em>I see, I see,” he said, nodding understanding, and Cassidy grinned in anticipation. “No. Absolutely not,” he said flatly, and Cassidy’s smile disappeared like a switch being thrown as the Archangel turned to the Demoness. “While the weapons are away,” he purred, walking two fingers up her arm to her collar, “perhaps a bit of afternoon delight?”</p><p>She was on him immediately, hiking her dress to leap into his arms and hook her legs over his hips, her hands clutching at the lapel of his jacket, their lips meeting with such eager force that I feared a broken nose or bloodied lips. He moaned lewdly into her mouth and his hands disappeared under the hem of her dress and I realized, cheeks flaming, they had no intention of taking their exploits somewhere more private.</p><p>“They have th’ bloody Messiah!” Cass snapped, and their groping hands and writhing bodies paused as they turned to peer at us.</p><p>“Which one?” the Archangel asked. His hips twitched as the Demoness lost interest, returning her full attention to ravishing the side of his neck.</p><p>“Jesus’ great grandson,” I said, my eyes on the sand in front of me, face still burning red. “Humperdoo. They’re gonna use him to end the world.” It still felt strange to say, impossible to imagine.</p><p>Now we had the Archangel’s full attention, and he kissed his Demoness once over her high, sharp cheekbone before he set her gently on the sand. “End it?” he asked, dumbfounded, and we nodded. “No more…cannoli? No more pigeon ladies in parks? No more Maury show?”</p><p>Cass squeezed my hand, but his eyes were on the Archangel. “No more Maury. No more Rikki Lake eit’er. No pigeons, no ladies, no parks. No Italian desserts o’ any kind.”</p><p>The Angel’s face grew solemn, and after a moment of deep contemplation his wings exploded back into being, blocking the sun as he stretched them. “Well, we can’t have that. Imagine the boredom. We’ll be back.” I shielded my eyes against flying sand as he flapped, bending his legs just slightly to launch for takeoff.</p><p>“Wait.” The Demoness grabbed his arm. Her voice was deep and rich, beautiful but for the slight distortion that made my head ache. “I’ll go.” Without awaiting reply she spread her wings—dark, webbed things with a claw at each joint. As she raised them the sunlight shone brightly through their thin membranes, turning them bright blazing pink threaded with blue-black veins.</p><p>“But Beloved—” the Archangel began, but she pressed a finger to his lips lightly.</p><p>“You’ve suffered enough at their hands,” she said, cradling his cheek in her palm. “I couldn’t bear it, if they took you again.” Despite the unsettling nature of her voice, her words touched me, and when I tucked myself under Cassidy’s arm he pressed his lips to my temple, seeming equally affected. “I’ll be quick,” she promised, and with one great flap that knocked us all back a step she was gone, speeding toward the great mountain silhouetted against the sun in the distance, shrinking to a black speck faster than I would have thought possible. The Archangel watched her go, his wings drooping, hands shoved deep in his pockets.</p><p>“She’ll be alright, mate,” Cass assured him. “An’ if they catch her, yeh can join our rescue mission, how ‘bout that?”</p><p>When the Archangel turned to face us the easy joviality was gone, replaced with steely, cold sincerity. “If they take her,” he said, “I’ll make what Frankie Toscani did to you feel like brunch at the Ritz.” He gave his wings a shake and folded them away into their pocket of nonexistence again before striding back to the motel, stooping to snatch his sword from the sand along the way.</p><p>We watched him go, stunned into silence by the abrupt change in him. After a moment I shook myself, squeezing Cassidy’s hand gently. “Let’s get inside to the air conditioning,” I suggested.</p><p>“Yes please,” Cass said; he started forward so quickly that I was tugged along stumbling in his wake. He paused in the doorway to shed his layers like a snake that’s outgrown its skin, piling them in my willing arms. When he’d gotten down to his sweat-damp t-shirt and jeans he peered slyly around the pub, and when there was no sign of Kamal he dipped behind the bar to pull himself a pint that was so icy cold the glass was covered in fine drops of condensation by the time he’d finished gulping it down. Kamal entered halfway through his second pint, and when Cass had finished and swiped away his mustache of foam he grinned ruefully and tossed a couple of brightly colored bills to the bar counter.</p><p>“The <em>malak </em>and <em>shaytan </em>have taken the big room,” he said apologetically. “And broken most of the others. But come.” He led us to the second door on the left—it led into a small, tidy room with a neatly made double bed. The blinds were pulled, and the angel-sized hole in the wall had been covered with a thick tapestry in preparation for our arrival. I tugged at it to peep outside—the wall was north-facing at least, so reasonably safe. “I planned to fix, but…” He spread his hands helplessly, looking chagrined. “I cannot keep up.”</p><p>“Nah, don’ worry about it mate, it’s perfect,” Cass reassured him, testing the bed. “’S got t’ree walls an’ a ceilin’, ‘s good enough fer us.”</p><p>“Where’s Tulip?” I asked, but before Kamal could reply she slid around him and joined Cass on the bed.</p><p>“Give us the room, wouldja?” she requested of Kamal, and he did.</p><p>“So,” Cassidy said conversationally. “What’s the plan?”</p><p>“Get in. Get Hump. Take ‘em down,” Tulip replied evenly, and Cass and I eyed each other with raised eyebrows.</p><p>“Um. Is there more…detail to it than that?” I asked gently, and she scowled.</p><p>“I ain’t got there yet, but I <em>will.</em>” I held my hands up, appeasing, and her scowl faded. “Sorry.”</p><p>The bed sagged as I joined them on Tulip’s other side, resting my shoulder against hers. “It’s okay. Let’s start with getting in. Do we have disguises? The Marnie Pomerantz wig, and the Annie Lennox one?”</p><p>“Yeah, but we don’t have anything for Cass. And they’ll be lookin’ for Marnie Pomerantz and Annie Lennox now.”</p><p>“Yeh could switch ‘em. Juniper be blond, an’ you wit’ th’ long brunette one,” Cassidy suggested, and we chewed this over.</p><p>“That could work, as long as the gum Marnie chews is xylitol free,” I cracked, but when they only stared I flushed, pulling at a hangnail. “It’s…sorry. Never mind. What about Cass as Grail agent and us as prisoners? All we’d need is the white suit and red vest and tie.” I paused, my eyes wandering to the dark tattoos across his hand. “And a whole lot of coverup.”</p><p>Tulip brightened, eyeing Cassidy. “That could work. Can you lose the accent?” she asked him.</p><p>“The accent ain’t the problem, darlin’,” he drawled, and his uncanny Texan inflection made us both draw back, noses wrinkled. “The problem’s gonna be that the Grail prob’ly don’t hire vampires, and the umbrella’s a dead giveaway.”</p><p>“Right,” Tulip sighed, and I flopped back on the bed. There was a gentle tap at the door and the Demoness entered, her wings folded tight against her body to fit, her hair wild and cheeks pink with exertion. The Archangel followed close behind, looking resigned, and I sat back up to eye them warily.</p><p>“It’s still there,” she said, the tip of her tail lashing. “The thermal exhaust port.”</p><p>“The what now?” Tulip asked, and Cass sighed explosively.</p><p>“Th’ <em>thermal exhaust port!</em> The weak spot! Like on the Deat’ Star?! Hones’ly, have none o’ you an <em>ounce</em> o’ culture between yehs?!” I touched his thigh lightly, silencing him, my eyes on the immortal beings before us.</p><p>“It’s there? And it’s still open?” I hardly dared to believe it, but the Demoness nodded. “Thank you!”</p><p>I expected them to leave us, but the Archangel stepped forward, his brow furrowed. “We’ll take you there,” he said glumly, and when his Demoness glared he sighed. “We <em>like </em>the world. Can’t be together in Heaven. Can’t be together in Hell. And the TV’s better here, anyway. And the <em>food</em>, the things you people do with plants, it’s—”</p><p>The Demoness touched his arm lightly, her smile indulgent, and he quieted. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning. It’ll be safer, with the sun at our backs.”</p><p>“Alright. Cool. Thanks,” Tulip said, though I could tell the idea of waiting another night chafed at her. “’Preciate it.” Her eyes, impressively, never strayed from the Demoness’ face to her lashing tail or bat-like wings. They each nodded once and they were gone—the Demoness used the spade of her tail to tug the door closed behind them, but they were entangled, moaning, before it had clicked shut.</p><p>“Well. That’s sorted,” Cass said flatly, and I squeezed his hand tightly—it sounded as though he too had held onto a small, private hope that we would find Masada impenetrable.</p><p>We sat in silence for a while as the room darkened around us, until the moans and wall-shaking thumping of the Archangel and Demoness gave way to the less mortifying, nearly as disturbing, screaming and snarling and clanging of swords. Tulip stood abruptly, pausing to look back at us when she reached the bedroom door.</p><p>“I’m gettin’ a drink. Y’all want anything?”</p><p>“No. Thanks. I’ve already stormed Masada hungover once,” I said, and managed a smile—she scoffed and turned to Cass, eyebrows raised.</p><p>“You go on, love. I’m alright,” he said, and we gaped. “<em>What? </em>A man can’t want t’ be sober fer a single evenin’?”</p><p>“I mean…<em>a man</em>, yes. But you? Nah,” Tulip quipped, and he rolled his eyes. “Alright. You know where to find me when you change your mind,” she said, and shut the door gently behind her.</p><p>As soon as she’d gone Cass tugged me to lay with him on the bed, facing each other with our foreheads and knees resting gently together, our hands clasped between us, and I fought to capture the feeling that sometimes came over me when I was in bed with him; that he and this room were all that there was in the world. But it wouldn’t come.</p><p>“You didn’t have to do that, you know, if it was for me. You can drink if you want,” I murmured, and he pressed his forehead more firmly to mine for a moment.</p><p>“I know. But right now if I start drinkin’ there’ll be no stoppin’ ‘til I’ve cleared Kamal out. An’ maybe not even then. So ‘s best t’ jes’ not.”</p><p>“Oh.” I blushed a little, and he tilted his chin upward to kiss the tip of my nose. I drew breath to speak but hesitated a moment, my heart speeding anxiously and my gut hot with shame. “Is it terrible that…I kind of want to leave? Right now? Just slip out and never stop running.” Hot tears pricked my eyes as I said it, and he squeezed my hands.</p><p>“Nah, tha’s about where I’m at too. T’ink it’d be weird if we di’n’t feel a bit o’ that,” he reassured me, and I managed a smile. He grew contemplative, and after a moment he scoffed, a grin that was more like a grimace twisting his lips. “D’yeh know I spent about fifty years jes’ sorta…not carin’ what happened t’ me? Not <em>wantin’ </em>t’ die, exactly, but not particularly carin’ if I did, d’yeh know what I mean? An’ not gettin’ attached t’anyone ‘cause yeh’re all temporary.” He paused and I darted my head forward to kiss him, savoring the softness of his lips against mine. “An’ now I’ve finally grown the bollocks t’ make a life wit’ someone an’ these fuckers ‘re gunnin’ t’ blow th’ planet t’ smithereens. Bit funny,” he said, but his voice hoarsened as he said it, and I wrapped my arms around his neck to pull his head to my chest.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Proinsias. It’s not fair,” I managed, and he crushed me to him, clinging with all of his strength.</p><p>“An’ I keep t’inkin’, what if we do it?” he went on, his voice muffled against my skin. “What if we do it, but I lose yeh in the process? Or lose yeh bot’? Christ, I dunno how I’d bear it.”</p><p>I pressed my lips to the top of his head, combing my fingers through the soft curls at the base of his skull. “You could…you could turn me.” I half hoped he wouldn’t hear, but a shudder ran through him at the words.</p><p>“Christ, <em>mo gréine</em>, don’ tempt me. Not right now,” he muttered, sounding pained, and when I felt him nosing toward the hollow of my throat I pulled away obediently.</p><p>“Sorry,” I said, but curiosity and frustration pricked at me. “But <em>why? </em>I’d be safer, and I mean…isn’t that…I kind of thought that would happen eventually, right? Why not now?” I shivered as he brushed his lips over my collar, but he only planted a light kiss there before he pulled back to look at me, his expression contemplative.</p><p>“Yeh know this isn’ somethin’ I’da chosen fer myself. An’ if we did it right now, it’d be ‘cause yeh’re scared—no, don’ deny it,” he added as I opened my mouth to protest. “Yeh only brought it up ‘cause I said I was worried about losin’ yeh. An’ that’s a shite reason, an’ yeh’d…I’d always be worried that yeh resented me for it. Can yeh understand that?”</p><p>I drew breath to argue again, but after a moment I just released it with a gusty sigh. “I understand.” He lowered his head again, his forehead resting against my collar, and I stroked the back of his neck, tracing the shape of the tendons that ran from the base of his skull to the knob of his spine where his neck met his back. “I’ll just have to be extra tough and mean tomorrow, I guess,” I said, and his low chuckle warmed the skin of my chest.</p><p>My fingers skimmed down further, under the collar of his shirt, finding the smooth plane of his shoulder blades, and he pulled away for a moment to tug the t-shirt over his head before returning to me. I continued my slow, studious path over his body, mapping him out slowly with my fingers, my eyes far away as I focused only on the feel of his skin under my hands. I found each bump of his backbone, counting the finger widths between them until I reached the two tiny dimples on either side of his spine that marked his pelvis. Then I worked my way back up over his side, laying my fingers in the shallow grooves between his ribs, and he lifted his arm over his head to clear my path. When I reached his underarm I touched the soft, wiry hair there—I blushed as I did it, but tonight I wanted to learn every inch of him, burn him into my memory. Just in case.</p><p>I ran my fingers over the soft curve of his bicep, up over his elbow, back down to the smooth line of his triceps. His forearm took more time—I traced each dark line tattooed into his skin, and his eyes followed me, his arm twisting and turning obligingly so my path never faltered. When I reached his palm and brushed my fingertips over the creases there he caught my hand, bring it to his mouth to kiss my knuckles gently.</p><p>“Everythin’ alright?” he asked softly, and then he doubled as tears filled my eyes.</p><p>“I just want to look at you,” I whispered, and he nodded and kissed my hand again before freeing it. We rolled so that I straddled his waist and I pushed his curls back off his forehead gently, grinning shakily when the disarrangement left them sticking in all directions. I smoothed the wrinkles in his forehead, followed the wavy vein over his temple to his ear, traced the shape of his nose, his eyebrows, his cheekbones, the soft outline of his lips. I turned his chin one way and then the other to explore the cords of his neck, and his Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow as I brushed my fingers over it.  </p><p>He closed his eyes as I swept my fingers over his collar bones, the hard ridges at odds with the softness of his skin, but he watched again as I traced every line of his magpie tattoo, and then the soft plane of his stomach—he flinched at my soft touch, making me smile, and I pressed a bit harder. He sat up when I reached his hips, his warm hands spanning the small of my back.</p><p>“I wasn’t done,” I protested half-heartedly, but he silenced me with a sweet, lingering kiss.</p><p>“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, Juniper,” he murmured, and I blushed. “I don’ say it enough. But Christ yeh’re gorgeous.”</p><p>“I’m like, eighty percent scar tissue,” I countered, and he chuckled.</p><p>“But look.” His thumbs swept up the scars that marred my cheekbones and still ached when I smiled too widely. “From when yeh came into th’ Tombs after me. When I realized I was in love wit’ yeh—the bravest lass I ever met in me life, I t’ink.” Now he stroked the ropy weal that stretched from my shoulder to my elbow. “An’ we never woulda bin friends wit’out this here, yeh said so yerself. When yeh decided t’ help me out even though yeh hated my guts.”</p><p>“Saved you, you mean,” I teased, and he scoffed before he caught my hand again, turning it so that the thick line across my palm stood out in the low light.</p><p>“From when yeh tracked us across two states t’rough th’ desert on yer own—yeh silly stubborn t’ing.” His finger brushed the thin, precise scar on the inside of my forearm. “An’ when yeh wouldn’ let me rest until I’d let yeh heal me up. I’d sorta forgotten, yeh know, what it was like fer someone t’ care like that.” He kissed me lightly and lifted my shirt, exposing the raised, diamond-shaped stab wound over my ribs. “This one’s me favorite, t’ough,” he said, and I shivered as he touched it, ticklish. “Yeh were…Jaysis, magnificent’s th’only word fer it. A bloody avengin’ angel…on’y prettier’n what we’ve met so far,” he added with a quick grin. “An’ t’ have yeh show up like that, when I’d t’ought…t’ought yeh were dead…fer a minute there I thought I’d joined yeh, did I ever tell yeh that?”</p><p>“No,” I murmured. “You never did.” I craned my neck to watch as he traced the little white diamond, his movements hypnotic.</p><p>“This one’s from when I got my second chance,” he said, and I leaned forward to rest my forehead against his. “An’ it’s fuckin’ beautiful.”</p><p>We continued that way, reminiscing, cuddling, dancing around the idea of goodbye, until the morning sun created a glowing halo around the tapestry that hung over the hole in the wall. I pressed my face against Cassidy’s chest, inhaling deeply, and he kissed the top of my head.</p><p>“We gotta go,” I said, trying to convince myself. “For Tulip.”</p><p>“Yeah,” he murmured, resting his bristly cheek against mine. “Fer Tulip.” I hugged him to me for a long moment and then forced myself to rise and change into clean clothes. After he’d dressed Cass pawed through our bag, and when I saw him roll up a pair of leggings and a shirt and tuck them into his pockets I stared. “In case yeh shift back, while we’re t’ere! I won’ have yeh runnin’ aroun’ Masada in yer birt’day suit!” he said, and I kissed him, grateful. I hesitated as a glint of light flashed against my ring, then reluctantly slid it off and held it out to him.</p><p>“I need you to hang onto it for me,” I explained when his eyes widened in dismay. “I can’t shift with it on, it’ll break my toe.” I dropped it into his open palm and he pursed his lips, put out, before he tucked into a tiny inner pocket of his denim jacket. I pressed against his side, strengthened by the solidity of him, and with a final glance around the room we stepped into the hall, shutting the door behind us.</p><p>There was a man in the hallway; a haggard, filthy man with a bandana folded into a headband and tied around his unruly dark hair. His back was to us, but even so I could see from the slump of his shoulders and the drag of his feet that he was careworn, exhausted. He was knocking on the motel room doors—perhaps a guest who’d lost their key? As we watched he knocked against yet another door, and then slumped against its frame as he awaited response.</p><p>“Yeh alright, mate?” Cass called down the hall, shouldering his way out in front to place himself between the stranger and me. Tulip opened her motel room door as the man turned toward the sound of Cassidy’s voice, and when I saw his face my jaw dropped, shaping my mouth into a slack circle. He was filthy from head to toe with reddish sand that clung to the dried blood on his cheek and neck, and the bandana covered a bloodied eye socket, but he was there, and very much alive.</p><p>Jesse.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading! If you have thoughts, I'd love to hear them!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0072"><h2>72. Masada Again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper, Cassidy, Jesse, and Tulip return to Masada to put an end to the Grail for good.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cassidy’s knee bounced rapidly, setting the bed shaking, his eyes on the bathroom door. From within we could hear the low murmur of Tulip’s voice under the thunder of the shower, punctuated by occasional single-word responses from Jesse. I touched Cassidy’s thigh lightly and he stopped with a sigh, but as soon as I pulled my fingers away he started again, full of anxious, electric energy.</p><p>“How d’yeh s’pose he came back?” Cass asked, and I shrugged. We hadn’t had a chance to ask—as soon as Tulip had recovered from her shock she’d ushered him into the bathroom, poking her head out only to order us to wash his filthy clothes, and when they were cleaned and dried and returned to her she disappeared again, closing the door firmly behind her.</p><p>We leaned forward as one when the water cut off, and when a few minutes later the door opened Cassidy grinned widely, as though Jesse had been on holiday rather than dead and—we’d thought—gone forever.</p><p>“<em>There he is! </em>Where yeh bin, mate?” he asked, heedless of Tulip’s furious glare. He rose to clap Jesse on the shoulder, and then had to steady him when the affectionate blow sent him stumbling.</p><p>“…Hell,” Jesse said, his voice small, and Cassidy’s wide smile faltered.</p><p>“…Ah. Well. We’re glad yeh’re back, aren’t we, <em>mo gréine</em>?” he asked, turning to me, and I nodded.</p><p>“Yeah. It’s good to see you, Jesse.” I realized as I said it that I wasn’t lying; as terrible as he’d been at times, I apparently preferred him alive.</p><p>“Thanks.” Jesse’s voice was still soft, stilted, as though the act of speaking required a momentous effort. He drew a deep breath and his eyes—his <em>eye</em>—searched Cassidy’s face. “I owe you an apology,” he said, and Cass blinked as Jesse glanced over to me. “Both of you. For the Tombs, and for letting Cass stay in Masada when I coulda made him leave. I’m sorry.”</p><p>I waited for the ‘but’ or the blaming that had always accompanied Jesse’s apologies, but it didn’t come, and I found myself warming to him. “I’m sorry I said I wished you were dead,” I muttered at last, and Jess nodded and turned to Cass.</p><p>“Ah, no harm done, mate. Everythin’ turned out alright in the end,” Cassidy said warmly, as I knew he would, and returned to me on the bed.</p><p>“Listen, Jesse,” Tulip began, her face apologetic. “The Grail has Humperdoo, and they’re ready to cause the apocalypse. We gotta get him back and take them down. Can you handle that?”</p><p>“Get Humperdoo back.” He seemed to roll the words around in his mouth as he said them, his tone wondering. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”</p><p>“Well, good,” Tulip said, seeming to breathe a sigh of relief. “Wouldn’t wanna do it without you.” She tucked a pistol into the waist of her jeans at the small of her back and strode to the door before she stopped to take a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. “You know,” she said, turning to grin at us, “I have a good feeling about this.” The clicking of her bootheels receded down the hallway, and I realized with a jolt that she was whistling.    </p><p>“Padre,” Cass said softly, and it seemed to take Jesse a moment to remember the nickname belonged to him. “Y’know we need t’ make sure they can’t ever have th’ chance t’ use Humperdoo to end th’ world again. Yeh know that, right?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Jesse agreed, his face grim. “Yeah, I know that.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and followed after Tulip, his shoulders sagging. Cass watched him go and then held out his gloved hand to me.</p><p>“Yeh ready?” he asked, and I shook my head as I took his hand to rise from the bed.</p><p>“Nope. You?”</p><p>He scoffed lightly, clinging to my fingers like a drowning sailor tossed a rope—my knuckles complained, but I only returned the pressure. “Not at all. Let’s go.” <br/>~~~~<br/>My eyes streamed and I squinted against the hot, dry wind, blinded by the speed of the Archangel’s flight. With each stroke of his wings the terrible pulling pressure on my shoulder increased, creating a steady, rhythmic throb of pain. The desert beneath me was a flat blur of golden brown, only occasionally broken by tiny oases or great craggy boulders, and I was glad for my tear-blurred vision; it meant I couldn’t tell how high we were.</p><p>“<em>This was more fun wit’ Eccarius!</em>” Cassidy shouted from beside me, but the rising and falling with each mighty beat of wings had my stomach churning, and I didn’t feel safe opening my mouth to reply.</p><p>My body swung forward suddenly as the Archangel slowed and hovered in the air, the bones of my wrist grinding together painfully with the movement. The Demoness was ahead of us, holding Jesse and Tulip suspended above a dark, well-like hole. She dropped them as I watched, one after the other, and though I knew it was part of the plan my grip tightened on the Archangel’s wrist as he eased us over the seemingly bottomless pit.</p><p>“See yeh in a min—” Cass began, but then he was gone, the wind of four huge flapping wings carrying away any sound he made as he fell.</p><p>The Archangel seemed to notice my panicked grip, and he smiled down at me. “Be not afraid,” he said, and his voice came to me as clearly as though it had originated between my ears. “After all, this is the easy part,” he added, and then I was plunging into darkness.</p><p>I shifted as the stone walls rushed past me so that when I landed I had four legs to take the impact rather than two, but even so my joints ached with the shock of landing and my jaws snapped together with a painful click. Cass and Tulip were waiting outside the cell door—blessedly open—and I joined them, but Jesse stayed to watch as the Archangel and Demoness floated down to him, as graceful as falling snow.</p><p>He joined us a moment later and we set out down the hall, my shoulder pressed tight to Cassidy’s hip and his hand buried in the thick fur of my ruff.</p><p>“You know where you’re goin’?” Jesse asked, and Cassidy’s fingers clenched over my fur, tugging painfully.</p><p>“T’ree times a day fer a week they had me up this way. I know where I’m goin’,” he said shortly, and Jesse was silent as we continued through the dim tunnels.</p><p>We split at the elevator doors, two to each side to surprise any Grail soldiers inside. Tulip drew her pistol, and the click of the safety coming off seemed deafening in my carefully attentive ears.</p><p>But when the elevator came it was empty, and we filed in with relief. I crouched at its doors, my muscles rigid and trembling like a racehorse at the starting gate. Cass joined me—his lips were peeled back from his teeth, and his eyes never left the elevator doors as I growled disapproval.</p><p>“I’m more bulletproof’n you are, fer Christ sake,” he muttered, and I snorted. Dimly I registered Tulip positioning herself behind Cassidy and me, her gun raised, blocking Jesse from view as well as she could.</p><p>There was a cheerful ding, and the doors rushed open.</p><p>They were waiting this time, ready for us, and my claws scrabbled against the elevator floor as Cass and I launched ourselves at the nearest. My jaws closed around a white-sleeved forearm, dragging the Grail soldier to the ground and crushing the bones there to pieces as he screamed.</p><p>“<strong><em>Drop your weapons</em></strong>.” The power of Genesis ruffled my fur with its passing, and there was a clatter as the guns rained to the ground. A single shot rang out behind me and I heard it ricochet off the high ceiling.</p><p>“God<em>damnit</em>, Jesse!” Tulip’s voice was furious; Genesis hadn’t been selective, and her pistol lay on the ground with the others. Jesse shrugged haplessly and then they joined us, fists flying.</p><p>The Grail agent I’d attacked was scrambling for a knife sheathed to his pristine white combat boot and I dropped his arm, closing my jaws over his neck. I braced one paw against his chest and gave a tremendous twist and his skin and tendons and arteries tore with a sound like wet fabric giving way, and his desperate clawing for the knife ceased.</p><p>I turned my attention to the closest man still standing—he’d been successful in reaching his knife and he grinned as our eyes met, dropping into a fighting stance. I stalked toward him, feinting left and right, and he matched my every movement with snake-like speed. Nothing for it, then. I threw myself at him with a snarl, bracing myself for the sting of his blade, but instead there was a crack at my ear and the man was screaming before my paws met his chest and we tumbled to the ground. The knife lay useless behind me, and the soldier clubbed at me helplessly with his left arm—the right was bent all wrong, ninety degrees in the wrong direction. I glanced over my shoulder and Jesse gave me a nod with a grim smile before I crushed the Grail soldier’s skull between my jaws like a stubborn walnut.</p><p>Teeth bared and ears flattened I raised my head, ready for the next—but none came. The hall was silent save for our panting, and after a moment my trembling muscles stilled and my ears swivelled, searching out my people. Tulip was replacing her pistol at her waist, glaring balefully at Jesse. Jesse was grinning as he rubbed blood off his knuckles against his jacket, looking more like himself than I’d seen since his return. And Cassidy…</p><p>Cass was gone. The ground pitched beneath me and a keening whine was torn from my throat before I recovered myself enough to produce the low <em>whuff! </em>that he knew as me greeting him.</p><p>“Cass?!” Tulip called out to him in the same moment, her voice worried, and his head reappeared around the corner.</p><p>“Over here,” he said. “Come check this out!” His voice echoed in the silence and I trotted to meet him, growling fiercely and baring my teeth at him the whole way, and he rolled his eyes. “I <em>know, </em>alright? I’m sorry, Jaysis.”</p><p>My ears pricked at the sound of music, echoing from high above me, and beneath it the sound of thousands of heartbeats, like the distant rolling of drums across a misty field. The atrium in front of us was empty, abandoned, a stark contrast to the bustling hive it had been when we’d come to rescue Cassidy.</p><p>“Where is everybody?” Tulip asked, and I bumped my shoulder against her hip, jabbing my nose toward the ceiling.</p><p>“They’re up there,” Jesse growled, his fists clenched, and as one we started toward the elevator at the other side of the hall, under the glowing stained-glass portrait of Humperdoo.</p><p>We’d only closed a quarter of the distance when my ears twitched and a sense of unease slowed my steps, though in my single-minded determination it took me a moment to realize why. The tidy click of Tulip’s bootheels paced me to my right, and the lower clack of Jesse’s snakeskins came from just beyond her. But the whispering scuff of Cassidy’s rubber soles had gone.</p><p>I skidded to a stiff-legged stop and spun to scan the atrium behind us, but again he was nowhere to be seen. Tulip followed my gaze, and annoyance followed realization in close succession.</p><p>“Oh <em>goddamn it</em>,” she muttered. “<em>Cassidy!</em>”</p><p>I <em>whuff</em>ed again and tilted my head, awaiting answer. None came and I tried again, as loud as I dared, and when Jesse shushed me I growled savagely, baring my teeth. I lowered my nose to the floor, weaving across the stone in a wide zigzag until I reached our starting point and found his scent—warm copper and the smell of our woodfire at home. I followed it closely, back toward Jesse and Tulip, but it cut off so suddenly that I overshot its end and had to circle back again.</p><p>“Juniper…” Tulip began but I ignored her, sniffing deeply at the spot where his track disappeared, vanishing as surely as though he’d dropped through a hole in the floor. I spiraled out from it, searching for any hint of him, a steady whine growing in my throat as my desperation grew. For just a moment as I weaved between the pillars a sense of vertigo seized me; like I was on the edge of a cliff so high that the ground below was a blur, a single errant breeze away from tumbling forever. And then it was gone, just as quickly as it had come and so completely that I nearly forgot it as I continued my frantic search.</p><p>“We don’t have time for this,” Tulip finally snapped. “We gotta <em>go!</em>” I growled, flashing my teeth without raising my nose from the floor.</p><p>“Juniper.” Jesse’s voice was quiet, but the rumble of my growl deepened, echoing in my chest, and I flattened my ears to my head, squinting against the anticipation of the Word’s compulsion. “I know you wanna find him. Need to find him. But if we don’t get up there and stop this, we all die. We lose <em>everything</em>.” My ears came back up slowly as I stared at him, and a long, plaintive whine left my throat. “I know. We’ll find him, after. I promise. But right now, we gotta go.”</p><p>I padded a final wide circle around the spot where Cassidy’s scent disappeared, swaying as that sense of teetering at a great height swept through me once more, and joined Jesse and Tulip, my head low. He touched me once between the shoulders and I sighed, deep and shuddering, as I followed him and Tulip across the great hall to the elevator.</p><p>For just a moment as the doors were closing I thought I heard him, as faint as breathing—<em>Billy?</em>—but then they’d shut and we were moving. In the closeness of the elevator the air grew rank with sour, adrenaline-tainted fear sweat. Tulip’s hands were steady, and she watched the flashing numbers of the floors change with no more interest than an executive on their morning ride up to their office. But Jesse swallowed convulsively as I watched, and he’d clenched his fists to still their shaking. I leaned into him, resting one big paw over the toe of his boot, and his fingers plunged into my fur, gripping it desperately.</p><p>Tulip glanced over and rested her palm on my head, her thumb brushing short strokes between my eyes. “He’ll be alright, Juniper. Cass can look after himself, you know he can,” she assured me, and I realized she’d mistaken who was comforting who. Jesse drew a deep, shuddering breath then, and when she looked up into his face realization flooded her features.</p><p>“Hey! Listen to me, <em>both </em>of you,” she said, sounding almost aggravated at our nervousness. “It’s gonna be okay! I promise.” As she stopped speaking there was a deep rumble and the elevator shuddered to a halt, the fluorescent lights replaced with dimmer emergency ones, and Jesse’s fist jerked in my fur, tugging painfully.</p><p>“That’s God,” he choked, his voice full of wonder and terror, and Tulip leaned in, staring into his face intently.</p><p>“Now you listen to me, Jesse Custer—” she began, but went on as if he hadn’t heard, his voice coming from far away and his eye unfocused, and I could feel his hand trembling against me.</p><p>“The whole time I was with Him in the desert, the <em>whole time</em> I was with Him, when he showed me who He was…arrogant, hateful…even when His teeth were ripping into my flesh, I never thought to stop Him. I never thought to use my power to stop God. I just never dared, I—”  </p><p>“I read the letter, you know,” Tulip cut in—a transparent attempt at distraction, but it worked; Jesse’s eye came back into focus again, flitting to her face.</p><p>“And?” he pressed, and she pursed her lips.</p><p>“What’s <em>perpetuity </em>mean?” she asked, and a tiny, crooked smile lifted one corner of Jesse’s lip.</p><p>“Means forever,” he said, and Tulip nodded. I froze, wishing I could give them privacy, hoping they’d forget I was there.</p><p>“Well…I knew that. I was just checkin’ if you knew,” Tulip said, and his smile widened. “Now I really wish I hadn’t burnt it,” she added regretfully, and his eyebrows furrowed.</p><p>“What’d you do that for?!” he demanded, and she lowered her eyes, her face full of phoney chagrin.</p><p>“Well, I sorta burned down a church,” she muttered, and I panted a laugh as Jesse groaned. “I ain’t proud of it!” she added, and when he finally chuckled a sly smirk painted her features. Her eyes fell on the dark elevator console, and she sighed irately. “Okay, this is officially bullshit. Get me up there so I can open it from the outside,” she ordered, and when he obliged it was with the easy familiarity of a dance that both partners had performed a thousand times before. Her boots had nearly disappeared from view when he summoned her back, and when she peered down at us through the elevator’s maintenance shaft she wore the eager, mischievous smile of a born troublemaker.</p><p>“Be <em>careful,</em>” he urged, and she rolled her eyes.</p><p>“I ain’t scared of Him,” she scoffed, and he sighed.</p><p>“You should be,” he said, though the set of his shoulders told me he knew this was a losing battle.</p><p>“I know, right?” she shot back, and disappeared, leaving us alone in the dim silence.</p><p>We watched the doors anxiously, awaiting the groan of resisting metal and the appearance of that grinning, elfin face. I pricked my ears forward, the tip of my tail waving gently, ready to alert Jesse at the first sound of Tulip’s approach. As the minutes stretched out my wagging stopped, and Jesse groped for me again, his breaths coming in rapid pants.</p><p>“Where is she?” he muttered, his hand finding my ruff again, and again I leaned into him, nosing roughly at him whenever his breathing grew too shallow. </p><p>When he pulled away from me and began to pace the tiny width of the elevator I shifted back, covering myself as best I could as my fur withdrew into my skin. He was so lost in his anxiety he didn’t notice me standing there until I spoke, and then he jumped and turned to stare, wild-eyed.</p><p>“Tell me when you fell in love with Tulip,” I blurted, and he ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, gathering himself.</p><p>“We were just kids,” he said briskly. “Someone on the playground called her trash. He musta had thirty pounds on her, easy, but she didn’t care. Jumped him, screamin’ and clawin’ like a maniac. She bit his nipple clean off,” he added with a shaky grin, and I snorted. His eye flicked downward, and when he registered my nakedness he turned away, shrugging out of his battered black jacket and offering it to me at arm’s length, and I tugged it on with a grateful smile.</p><p>“Tell me what you love most about her,” I pressed, and he squinted at me.</p><p>“I know what you’re doin’, you know,” he said, and I shrugged.</p><p>“Keeping you from freaking out is keeping me from freaking out,” I explained with a tiny smile, and he nodded.</p><p>“She’s the toughest woman I ever met in my goddamn life. You tell her she can’t do somethin’, and she’ll do it out of pure spite with a smile on her face,” he said, and now his smile was steady. “That’s how she learned to drive stick. She wanted that Chevelle, and I told her not to get it cause she could only drive automatic.” His smile faded and died suddenly. “If she tries that shit with God, though, He…” One trembling hand touched his eyepatch lightly, and he glanced up through the maintenance hatch desperately. “You gotta go find her. I’ll boost you, come on.” He crouched, interlacing his fingers, and I considered him, head tilted.</p><p>“No,” I finally said, and he frowned. “We can’t <em>all</em> split up, Jess, that’s dumb.” He opened his mouth to protest, but I held up a finger, silencing him. “And <em>when</em> she turns out to be fine, if she finds out I fucked off and left you alone in this state she’ll kick my ass.” That got a scoff out of him, but he still looked unsure. “Listen,” I added softly, “if it’s what you <em>really </em>think is needed, you can make me. Otherwise I’m staying here.”</p><p>He considered this for a long moment, and finally released a long breath, his shoulders sinking as he leaned against the wall. “Alright. Thanks, Juniper.” He paused, his lips pursed. “And thanks for givin’ a shit. Wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, Cass is a good influence that way,” I said, and when his eyebrows raised incredulously I glared.</p><p>“<em>Your </em>Cassidy? A good influence?” His voice was so deadpan and flat that I narrowed my eyes, and it wasn’t until a smile tugged at his lips that I realized he was joking—trying, anyway.</p><p>“In the ways that matter,” I said, and he nodded, but his eye was growing glassy and far away again, the tremor returning to his fingers. I took his hand in both of mine, chafing warmth back into it before I entwined my fingers with his. “Tell me Cass’ll be alright,” I whispered, and he squeezed my hand tightly.</p><p>“Cassidy’s the gristliest sonovabitch I ever knew. He’ll be fine, and Tulip will be fine, and we’ll be fine. And when this is all over we’ll go on a double date to Chilis and get drunk on strawberry daquiris.”</p><p>We both jumped as the elevator dinged, the lights flashing back on as the doors slid smoothly open.</p><p>“It’s a plan,” I agreed, and we stepped out onto the floor, our hands still clasped. “Maybe Cass can sneak in a camelbak full of absinthe so he actually—” I stopped short as I heard a familiar, low groan, and when my wide eyes met Jesse’s I knew he’d heard it too. “<em>Cassidy!</em>” I shouted, and the moan came again, louder this time, and I was running, the black coattails of Jesse’s jacket streaming out behind me and my bare feet slapping against the stone, not caring if Jesse was following.</p><p>I skidded around a corner, sliding across the suddenly wet floor, and stopped short, my hands flying to my mouth to contain a scream. Pieces of Cassidy lay scattered in a grisly breadcrumb trail that led to where he lay moaning on the floor—the largest part that was left of him, anyway. His liver lay at my feet, his arm just beyond him down the hall, his intestines spilled from his chest in thick, wet ropes, and I realized with revulsion that I could see his lungs pulsing as he gasped. Blood trickled from his mouth as he raised his head, mixing with the sweat and tears and snot that created a wet sheen across his waxy white face.</p><p>“Juniper,” he managed, and the brokenness of his voice spurred me forward. I picked carefully around the pieces of his mangled body to sit at his shoulder, tugging him as carefully as I could into my lap as he moaned.</p><p>I brushed my lips across his forehead, pressing my hand to his cheek, and his remaining arm rose to grasp my wrist. “I’m here. Oh, Jesus, Cass…I’m here, you’ll be alright, we can…we can fix this,” I murmured, half comfort and half prayer. Jesse flew around the corner then and stumbled to a stop as he took us in, his face paling with the horror of the scene before him.</p><p>“I said no,” Cassidy gasped, his eyes roaming deliriously from me to Jesse and back. “He…He tried to tempt me. He said he would send us home,” he whimpered, sobbing as he spoke, his beseeching eyes finding mine, and I cradled his cheek, drawing back so my tears wouldn’t rain on his face. “I said no.”</p><p>“You did good, baby,” I said, barely aware of my words. “You did so good.” I stroked the sweat-soaked curls at his temple, desperate to give him some kind of comfort.</p><p>“I’ll get some blood,” Jesse managed, but Cass reached for him as he began to stumble away.</p><p>“No, Jess, there’s no time.” His voice was raw, desperate, and with every word I grew more frantic to <em>do</em> something. “Yeh have t’ go an’ get Humperdoo. Yeh <em>have </em>to. Yeh can’t let ‘em end it.”</p><p>“I won’t,” Jesse assured him. “We’ll take care of Humperdoo, and then we’ll get out of here together. It'll all be alright.”</p><p>“Wrong.” The low, amused voice came from behind Jesse, but before he could turn he was knocked sideways to slam against the wall before he slid senselessly to the ground. The man who’d hit him seemed to fill the hallway; the bushy white hair at His crown nearly brushed the ceiling and His broad shoulders filled the grey sportscoat He wore beyond capacity. He smiled warmly down at me, His eyes crinkling under bushy white brows and His teeth flashing from within a huge snowy beard. I felt that same sense of wavering at the edge of a precipice as I beheld Him, but this time it didn’t pass and I gasped for breath, clinging to Cassidy like a lifeline. God still held His club in His hand; a long, black club with a bizarrely shaped white checkered handle. A leg, I realized. Cassidy’s leg. He tossed it aside carelessly as I eyed Him, scrubbing his palm against his pants as though he’d touched something repulsive.  </p><p>“Juniper. My child.” His expression grew sad, pitying even, as he eyed me. “I tried. I tried to give you the happy ending you deserve. I told Proinsias you could go back, the both of you. Live the human lives you should have had. And do you know what he said?”</p><p>“No,” Cass wept, and I ducked my head to kiss his forehead. “I said no.”</p><p>“You did good,” I murmured again, rubbing my cheek against his, and another one of those shuddering sobs wracked him. A prickle of heat passed down my spine as I lifted my head, my eyes narrowed. “And when he said no?” I asked, my voice low, and Cassidy squeezed my arm; a warning.</p><p>God’s warm smile grew bashful, but His eyes sparkled as though He’d been invited to join in His favorite game. He shoved His large, spade-like hands into the pockets of His dark jeans and tilted His head. “Well, I think it’s only natural to be a bit miffed when someone snubs your gift, don’t you?” He asked, and I lowered my eyes to Cassidy’s face, his beseeching eyes and blood-painted mouth. My eyes tracked down his broken chest and straining lungs, his guts strewn across the stone floor, the arm that had been torn from its socket.</p><p>Boiling rage filled me, bubbling up from my stomach, scalding my heart and scorching coherent thought from my brain; I registered Cassidy’s whispered plea only vaguely as I raised my eyes to God’s face. Glee was painted boldly across it now and He leaned forward on His toes as He awaited my response.</p><p>I threw myself at God, still barefoot and naked but for Jesse’s jacket, with no weapon in my hand but rage and hurt and no plan but to tear the giddy smile from His face. It was hopeless, I knew, but I didn’t care; so long as I could leave a mark on Him—a scratch, a bruise, a stain on His pristine white shirt—it would be worth it.</p><p>He twitched one finger, as if to rid Himself of an irksome fly, and I was sailing through the air, my legs still churning though they didn’t touch the ground. His smirking face filled my vision, and it was the last thing I saw before the world went black.<br/>~~~~<br/>Pain. I curled in on myself, desperate to return to unconsciousness, but even that small movement brought the pain in my shoulder to a dizzying, nauseating new pitch and I couldn’t help the strangled cry that passed my lips. My cheek rested in a pool of something warm and sticky, and I wondered if I’d been sick already—the way my stomach was roiling, it wouldn’t have surprised me. But when I opened my eyes I was lying in a pool of blood that was not my own, and at the realization I <em>was</em> sick, the harsh spasms of it doubling, trebling my pain so that I sobbed helplessly between retches. At last I was able to still, cradling my useless arm, shivering uncontrollably, and look around. God was gone. Jesse was gone. Cass was gone, though the pale, bloodless body of a Grail soldier had taken his place and told me he was likely healed.  </p><p>Slowly and cautiously I shed Jesse’s jacket, sliding it off of my good arm first so that I could peel it off the bad side without moving my shoulder. Even the whisper of fabric against my skin was agony, and tears rolled down my cheeks as I fought futilely to keep quiet. I laboriously folded the jacket one-handed and placed it safely outside the pool of blood I’d been lying in, telling myself that when Jesse found it I wanted him to know it was cared for.</p><p>I knew the wolf’s keen sense of smell would be my only chance of finding Cass or Tulip or Jesse, and the knowing was the only thing that got me through the shift, though I couldn’t stop the scream that tore my throat as the bones and muscles of my broken left side yanked and pulled and were reshaped. When it was done I could only lie against the cold stone floor, gasping and shivering, low whimpers escaping my throat between panting breaths. After a time I found I could stand, though my left front leg wouldn’t take weight and buckled if I tried. Cassidy’s trail was strong and fresh, but with only three working legs and a jolt of nauseating pain with each step, my progress after him was achingly slow.</p><p>He'd made his way back to the same elevator that Jesse and I had left, and I was grateful when it came without delay—the thought of navigating the stairs made me whimper. I nosed the buttons until I found the one that smelled most strongly of him and jabbed it, then let my head hang low as the elevator hummed upward, my nose nearly brushing the floor, swaying on my feet.</p><p>I roused myself at the cheerful bell that announced we’d stopped, raising my head as the doors opened to find myself faced with a slight woman in a smart white suit who wore a headset over her impossibly sleek hair blond.</p><p>“Are you <em>fucking</em> kidding me?” she snapped, and I readied my trembling body to leap at her, but her hand only flew to her headset. “A <em>dog? </em>Who greenlit an act with a <em>dog?! </em>The Allfather fucking hates dogs!” She spun away from me and as her high heels clicked aggressively down the hall I could still hear her—the acid tones of someone who considers themselves too dignified to yell, but only just. “Well I don’t <em>know, </em>that’s why I’m <em>asking</em>, isn’t it?! All I know is there’s a big fucking <em>dog</em> in the elevator!”</p><p>Unable to believe my luck, I limped as quickly as I could after Cassidy’s trail. I froze in place each time someone passed me in the hall, my heart racing, but backstage was so busy, and the performers so outlandish, that I went largely unnoticed other than the occasional pat on the head.</p><p>His scent led me at last to a long, dead-end hallway with a single thick wood door at its end, decorated with a dull metal star. Beyond it I could hear Cassidy, his fierce growls interspersed with shouts of pain. As I staggered quickly closer I recognized Tulip’s grunts of effort and the thump of fist against flesh—but there was no sound from their adversary. I stretched on my hind legs to push against the door, but of course it didn’t give. I barked softly, and there was a break in the sound of blows landing.</p><p>“<em>Juniper!</em>” I heard his desperate fingers claw at the door latch, and then a thump and a guttural scream that raised the hair along the back of my neck. I hobbled back to the far end of the hall, and flinched when a bullet struck the stone above my head.</p><p>“Hey! You!” A Grail soldier was rushing down the hall, gun in hand, a man and woman in plainclothes close behind. I was out of time. I threw myself into a clumsy, lumbering sprint, squinting my eyes shut against the coming impact, and launched myself at the door, twisting in the air to hit it broadside, a living battering ram. There was a crack like the snapping of a dry branch, and sharp, stabbing pain along my side, but there was a creak of metal too, and the door fell in with me on top of it.</p><p>I struggled to my feet, already scanning the room for Grail enemies, though my thoughts were fuzzy with pain, but I found none. Instead my eyes locked with a man…but something more. He was a terribly unfortunate-looking man, with jagged, crooked teeth and bulging eyes, one of which pointed off at a near right-angle to the other, and he’d been stuffed into an impossibly fine white suit that only served to highlight his ugliness. But his presence was the polar opposite of God’s—when I looked into his eyes I felt as though I <em>had</em> been falling, tumbling helplessly through time and space my entire life, but now suddenly there was warm, fertile earth under my feet and the sun on my face and a gentle breeze in my hair. He felt like love—like home.</p><p>“Juniper,” Cass choked, and I startled back to myself, blinking as my eyes landed on him. There was no adversary because he and Tulip were fighting each other. She’d straddled him on the vanity, and one of his hands was pierced through with the metal end of a comb, pinned to the wood like a flailing, struggling spider. Tulip was struggling to maintain her hold on his other arm, clenching her knees at his waist and clinging to his wrist with both hands like a bizarre rodeo cowgirl. “Yeh gotta do it, Juniper, there’s no more time,” he said, his voice apologetic, and Tulip’s head whipped toward me, her eyes wide and pleading—but Cass was right.</p><p>My eyes found Humperdoo’s again, and there was no fear there. No anger, no resentment, no bitterness. Only peace, and a great well of unconditional love that washed over me and broke my heart even as I leapt for his throat, my teeth bared.</p><p>There was a shot like a cannon blast and something hot and hard struck my side with incredible force. I tumbled to the ground, my momentum lost, landing hard on the stone and drowned under a wave of pain that greyed my vision. I tried to stand, and then to crawl, but the floor was slick beneath me and growing slicker and a dull, throbbing numbness was spreading from the point of impact.</p><p>“<em>Stay down!</em>” Tulip’s voice echoed from somewhere far away, and I wondered who her words were for as I clawed forward on weakening legs, my blurring eyes on Humperdoo.</p><p>Another bone-shattering impact sent me skidding across the floor through what I dimly recognized as blood—where had it all <em>come</em> from?—and though my paws still twitched feebly, my legs would not respond.</p><p>“<em>Jaysis Christ, whadja do to her?!</em>” Cassidy. He was so upset—terrified like I’d never heard him. I had to get to him. Had to make sure he was okay, was safe. Had to…</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I THINK this is my favorite chapter so far, so I hope you love it as much as I do! It was a joy to write even though it's sometimes heart wrenching to read. <br/>Thank you so much for making it this far with me. I appreciate every hit and comment and kudos more than you know &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0073"><h2>73. Just Red</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper and Cassidy deal with the aftermath of Masada.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I was curled on something soft, something that smelled of woodsmoke and was smooth against my cheek. Our living room loveseat, I decided, and when I did the stain of unknown origin, from before the sofa was ours, materialized in front of my eyes. As I sat up the rest of the room took shape around me—the thick, plush rug sprouted from the abyss under my feet, my warm full moon den formed right angles from the shadows, the art seemed to paint itself on thin air and floated at the proper height, hanging on nothing. The worn wood planks of our floor shaped themselves from empty space and clicked into place until they reached the boundary of the living room and the encroaching darkness there; the windows, like the art, hung suspended in space, looking out onto flat blackness. Our miniature marquis sign took shape on the mantel, the softly backlit letters reading <em>BE NOT AFRAID</em>, and a memory tugged at me for a moment before I grew distracted, disturbed by the fireplace. It was cold, a chill draft wafting from where I had only ever known warmth.</p><p>I had the sense that I was waiting, though I wasn’t sure what for. I felt the same vague uneasiness and gnawing anxiety that I often did when I was waiting for Cassidy to get home from work—the sense that <em>probably </em>things would be okay, but they weren’t just yet. I paced to the kitchen door to check the clock over the stove, but now that doorway opened on dark nothingness, and I retreated with a shiver. I tried the front window; often just as my anxiety reached its peak I would see him striding across the lawn, grinning as he spotted my worried face. But the world outside the window was just as impenetrably black as the kitchen, and I returned to the loveseat with a sigh. If Cass needed time, I could give him that.</p><p>Ages passed, spent staring into the cold fireplace, and gradually I became aware of something new, something that seemed to exist in the endless nothing outside the living room—howling. The howling of dozens and dozens of wolves, the joyful yips of reunions and the playful growls and snarls of old friends pestering one another. It grew louder, closer, and I tilted my head, listening for familiar voices. There was no one that I knew, and yet as the joyful noise went on I became more and more sure that there <em>was</em>, or at least that they knew me, and if I were to join them I would be welcomed warmly as family. As I realized it the temptation rushed through me, so overwhelmingly strong that I was halfway to the door before I recognized it.</p><p>But Cassidy wasn’t back yet. If I left now, he’d worry when he arrived. I didn’t want him to be alone when he got here. I paced back to the loveseat and sank down on it, and the wolves outside whined a pleading chorus. I bit my lip, considering. Perhaps just a short run—just to stretch my legs. I’d be back long before Cass arrived. Decided, I strode again toward the front door, but as I did the noise outside changed. The jubilant howls that carried through the air became twisted, garbled, and finally devolved to human jeers and catcalls. <em>Whore! Bitch! Slut! </em>The shouts had the same echoing, resonating quality that they had in the Tombs and I shrank back as the harsh words bounced like stones off the window, retreating to the floor in front of the loveseat, hiding as best I could, grounding myself in the thick, soft fibers of the rug there.</p><p>After a time the voices faded away, and I was left in silence again. I pressed my face against my knees, wishing Cassidy would come back to me. Eons later, a soft, steady dripping caught my attention, and for a panic-stricken moment I expected to raise my head and find myself back in my tiny, dark cell under Angelville. But I was still in our living room, and the dripping was coming from the cold hearth. I crawled closer, curious, and found a red stain in the ash. I touched it—it was damp—and as I did another drop fell onto the back of my hand—shiny red and just a bit sticky. I frowned, turning my hand so the drying blood gleamed in the light, and with a sound like a waterfall a torrent of it rushed down the chimney, soaking my arm to the elbow and flooding out onto the wood floor as I scrambled backwards onto the couch. It kept coming, thundering into the tiny room, creating a lake ankle-deep by the time I’d climbed to the back of the sofa, leaving shiny red footprints smeared over the cushions. My wildly darting eyes lit on the stairs and I sloshed toward them and up, my blood-slick soles slipping on each step, but when I reached the top I teetered at the edge of blackness; there was nowhere to go. The blood seeped over the second step.</p><p>The door. I hurdled the railing, landing with a great splash, and ran for it, slowed by the thick blood that sucked at my legs, up to my knees now. I paused with my hand on the doorknob, gazing in horror at the window. Where before it had opened to blackness, so thick it felt solid, now every pane was filled with red. The glass exploded inward as I stared, sweeping me away under a river of blood that filled my eyes, my nose, my mouth and ears. I paddled wildly, my stinging eyes blinded, desperately seeking up, seeking air. For a moment my head broke the surface, and over my desperate gasping I could hear echoing voices—<em>I’m sorry-why’s she havin’-I’m sorry-fits-I dunno never happened-I’m sorry-wi’ the others-I’m sorry—</em>and then a great wave took me under again, throwing me spinning, filling my burning sinuses with blood. Again I paddled, squinting hopelessly at the opaque wall of red that filled my every sense.</p><p>My lungs ached. I kicked wildly, my arms stretched out in front of me, seeking <em>anything</em> but the dark emptiness that trapped me. My lungs burned. I realized my kicking had slowed and I forced myself to redouble my efforts, willing every scrap of energy into my legs. My lungs screamed. The muscles of my legs spasmed suddenly and cramped, hot metal balls of pain settling into my calves and hamstrings and I drifted uselessly.</p><p>The pain faded to the background, eclipsed by the need for air and, still submerged, I inhaled.<br/>
~~~~<br/>
Hollow. My stomach throbbed and writhed with hunger—the kind that leaves you trembling and nauseous, your mouth flooded with saliva at the very thought of food, <em>any</em> food. Yet as I fantasized heaping plates of my favorites—crisp golden waffles with each tiny compartment full of rich syrup, juicy burgers so tall I could barely get my mouth around them, steaming pizza with cheese that stretched into long strings as you claimed a slice—none of it felt quite <em>right. </em>And my throat was so dry its walls felt ready to tear and crumble to pieces like a desiccated autumn leaf. I swallowed once, twice, three times and found no relief from the aching burn of it.</p><p>I tried to push the roaring thirst and hunger to the back of my mind, to take stock of the rest of me, with little success. After a moment I realized with a start that there <em>were </em>no pressing sensations beyond them. The sickening pain in my shoulder that had sent shocks of agony through my body with every movement had gone, and so had the sharp hurt that had accompanied each breath after I’d knocked down Humperdoo’s door.</p><p>Humperdoo. The memories of the day flashed through my mind in quick succession; the desperation, the fear, the determination all pulsing as strongly as they had in the moment, and panic seized me as I remembered that Humperdoo had still been living, and the Apocalypse still on track, when I’d been shot. When Tulip had shot me.</p><p>My eyes flashed open and I tried to rise, only to find I’d been strapped to the metal frame of a hospital bed. There was a metallic rattle when I struggled, and I realized that there were handcuffs reinforcing the thick Velcro-and-leather restraints, and I’d been dressed in plain red scrubs. They had me. The Grail. I flung myself against the restraints and a low rumble filled the room; the metal railings creaked with my frantic, panicked flailing.  </p><p>“Hey, hush now, yeh’re alright.” I settled, panting, as Cassidy leaned into my field of vision and cradled my cheek in his palm.</p><p>“Cass,” I breathed, leaning into him, and he smiled crookedly but it didn’t reach his tired eyes. “You’re alright?” My eyes swept down his body—whole and bloodless, though he’d changed into a white muscle shirt and a pair of maroon scrub pants.</p><p>“I’m okay. Stitched back t’gether like a mended sock.” I glared at the casual dismissal of his dismemberment, and his smile turned rueful. “Truly, I’m alright. I’m sorry yeh saw that,” he added, and again his lack of concern for himself made me sigh.</p><p>“What happened?” I asked. “Where’re Jesse and Tulip? Why am I…here?” I flexed my arm against the leather strap again.</p><p>“They’re alright too,” he assured me. “We…won, Juniper, if yeh can believe that. Th’ four of us against a multinational crypto-fascist religious organization backed by God Himself, and we bloody won.” His grin widened, and now it reached his eyes, crinkling them at the corners.</p><p>“…Oh. Good.” I let my head fall back to the pillow. “That’s good.” My anxiety drained as though he’d pulled a plug, but that left room for the raging hunger and inferno of thirst to leap back to the forefront, and I flinched against them, squeezing my eyes shut. “How long has it been?”</p><p>There was a pregnant pause, and panic began to rise in me again—how long could it possibly have taken for my body to heal? Weeks? Months? Surely not years. “’S only been a few hours, <em>mo…mo gréine</em>.”</p><p>I frowned at this, flexing my shoulder and wondering at the lack of pain. “But I’m…I was shot.”  </p><p>His lips pressed into a thin line and he leaned back in his chair. “Yes.” He hesitated, his eyes searching my face intently. “How…how do yeh feel?”</p><p>I swallowed against the hot flames that licked the inside of my throat, the nauseating hunger that made focusing a Herculean effort. My body felt limp, used up, like a damp washrag wrung out and abandoned in the bottom of a sink, but nothing beyond what a long sleep could fix. “I’m okay. I’m just…<em>fuck</em>, Cass, I’m so hungry. Do we have any—” With a start I realized his eyes had welled, and as I watched he raised one hand to cover his face. “What?!”</p><p>“I didn’ want it t’ be this way,” he moaned miserably. “I wanted yeh t’ <em>choose</em>, like I said. But I saw yeh bleedin’ out on th’ floor like that an’ I couldn’ bear it, I couldn’ lose yeh when I had a way to keep yeh, miserable coward that I am, an’…an’ I took that choice away from yeh Juniper, an’ if yeh never forgive me I’ll understand, truly I will, I jes—”</p><p>“Cassidy!” My voice cut across his deluge of apologies, damming them, and the restraints bit into my wrists as I strained for him, my fingers outstretched, desperate to console him. He lowered his hand, but wouldn’t raise his eyes to mine. “You…bit me?” I asked softly, and he nodded, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his anguish. “I’m a wolfpire?” I used his word from our tiny bed in New Orleans a million years ago, hoping to see him smile, but he didn’t seem to hear.</p><p>“I got…I knew yeh’d be…be t’irsty,” he said, flinching with the word. He produced a blood bag from under his chair, ruby in the low light, and my throat burned as though I’d swallowed molten lead. My mouth felt too full suddenly, and when I darted my tongue forward I pricked its tip against the razor-sharp tip of a long fang. The bedrails creaked ominously as I strained against their hold, and deep animal growl filled the air—after a moment I realized it was coming from me. Some small part of me, buried deep under the <em>want</em>, clamored that I should be revolted, horrified at the idea of the blood passing my lips, but all I felt was raging, all-encompassing need. Cassidy detached the blood bag’s tube and held it to my lips, and from the first desperate gulp I was sure the blood was the best thing I’d ever tasted. Thick and rich, warm against my tongue, quenching the fire in my throat and filling the chasm in my gut, the salty, decadent richness of it brought me back to the oysters Rockefeller at Antoine’s—but this was so much better.</p><p>It wasn’t until I’d finished, greedily slurping every drop and wishing I had twenty gallons more, that I grimaced. “It’s <em>sour</em>,” I complained. My mouth had filled with the lip-puckering tang of sour coated candy, tainting the last of the blood taste that I’d hoped to savor.</p><p>Cassidy laughed softly, and I scowled, feeling jaded. “’S th’ sodium citrate in th’ bags,” he explained. “Keeps it from clotting, like, but tastes godawful.” He paused, his expression pondering, and then he shot me a guilty smile. “’S nice t’ have yeh understand.” I softened at that, and when my fingers stretched toward him he took my hand and leaned to kiss each of my knuckles lightly.</p><p>My throat was still dry, and my stomach yammered for more, but at a manageable volume, and I lay my head down, closing my eyes with a sigh. There was a tearing of Velcro and the click of a key and my hand was free—I rotated my wrist for a moment before I stretched my arm out, searching without opening my eyes, and Cass obligingly laid his cheek against my palm. After a moment he pulled away, and there was the low clunk of the bedrail being lowered before the warm, solid weight of his head came to rest against my hip. I stroked his hair lightly with my freed hand, raking my nails over his scalp, and he sighed softly.</p><p>“Tell me what happened,” I murmured. “With Humperdoo and God and all of it.”</p><p>“She shot ‘im,” Cass said softly. “Tulip. Right after she shot you. T’ink it about killed her t’ do it. She really loved him.”</p><p>“Yeah,” I sighed. “I felt it. Him, I mean. He was…he was different.” I felt Cassidy’s nod before he went on.</p><p>“So then I…I bit yeh,” he said, his voice cracking, and I squeezed the back of his neck gently. “An’ I missed th’ rest, cause I was wit’ you. But God buggered off—when he realized Hump was dead, I t’ink. An’ Jesse tole th’ Grail eejits to find him—made ‘em, like he can’, yeh know. An’ that’s…well, that’s pretty much it.”</p><p>“Oh,” I said softly. “…I can’t believe you just made stopping the Apocalypse sound anticlimactic,” I teased, and the bed shook with his quiet laughter. “Cass?” I murmured, and he hummed in response. “Why am I restrained? The Children of Blood were never restrained.”</p><p>He sat up, eyeing me carefully, and I swallowed. “D’yeh remember anythin’?” he asked, and I closed my eyes, trying to claw back the hours I’d lost.</p><p>“I remember…you yelling. At Tulip, I guess, asking what she’d done,” I said slowly, and he nodded, his expression growing stormy for a moment. “And then…” My brow furrowed. “Just red.”</p><p>A slow sigh left him, like air hissing from a tire, and he took my hand; I got the sense he was reminding himself I was there, that whatever had passed was over and done. “It…didn’ go th’ same as wi’ Dennis or Lisa or any o’ them,” he said finally. “You were already so weak, an’ then after I…after I bit yeh, yeh started coughin’, an’ yer breathin’ went all t’ready an’ whistlin’, like yeh were breathin’ t’rough a straw. Yeh kept…shiftin’ back an’ forth, like, but not all the way either way before yeh’d go back again. Yer heart was speedin’ fit t’ burst, an’ then—” He sucked a deep breath through his teeth, and I squeezed his hand reassuringly. “Yeh started havin’ fits. Seizures, I mean. An’ yeh stopped breathin’.” His eyes went misty again, and he bent to press his forehead to the back of my hand. “I really t’ought I’d killed yeh.”</p><p>“You didn’t,” I murmured, stroking his cheek. “You <em>saved</em> me, Proinsias.”  </p><p>He sighed again, deep and shuddering, as though releasing a great weight. “I t’ought yeh’d hate me,” he said, and I pulled him to me, pressing my lips to his, gasping at the electric newness of it; every sensation felt dialed up to maximum volume and then some.</p><p>“<em>Never,</em>” I promised. “I got all that out of my system when we met.” He laughed, soft but genuine, and I pulled him into a one-armed bear hug.</p><p>“Listen,” he said after a while. “When yeh’re ready, Tulip an’ Jess’re outside. They wanna check on yeh, an’ th’ firs’ time yeh’re around people, it’s…it’s a lot. That’s why I t’ought…” He gestured vaguely at the restraints that still held one wrist and my ankles, and understanding flashed through me, followed by the sting of resentment.</p><p>“That’s smart,” I allowed, and he smiled apologetically at my sulky expression. “I think…probably after more blood I’d be okay?” I asked, and at the thought of more my thirst flared back to the forefront with startling force; my fist clenched over the bedrail, drawing a groaning creak from the metal. Cass rummaged under his chair again, and this time I was able to stifle the growl in my chest, but only just. His fumbling with the straw-like tube seemed painfully slow, and I fisted my hand in the scratchy hospital bedsheet to keep myself from snatching at it. At last he freed the tube, but when he held out the bag I grabbed it too eagerly, sending a fine arc of blood high into the air to spatter over the white sheets.</p><p>The second bag was as delicious as the first, smooth and nourishing and a balm in my parched throat. I found I didn’t even really mind the sour aftertaste, now that I was expecting it, though I <em>did</em> wonder…</p><p>It was gone too soon, and my tongue flicked out to wet my lips as my eyes fell on the blood that had spilled across the blanket, beautiful deep red like roses against fresh snow. I flung the bedding away from me before I could give in to temptation and embarrass myself, and when I met Cassidy’s eyes his expression was knowing, and sad.</p><p>“Too hot,” I muttered, flushing. “I think I’m okay to see them now,” I added; the hunger that gnawed my stomach had quieted to a dull roar, and the thirst could be pushed to the back of my mind.</p><p>“Are yeh <em>sure?</em>” Cassidy asked, his eyes searching. “There’s no rush.”</p><p>“I want to see them,” I insisted, and he nodded. I did my best to smother my resentment as he strapped my restraint back into place and closed the handcuff over my wrist.  </p><p>“Alright,” he said, but hesitated. “Listen, this, now…This is th’ hardest it’ll ever be. Alright? It only gets easier from here. An’…” He ducked toward me to kiss my temple, and then rested his forehead against it so that when he went on his breath tickled my skin. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>He crossed to the door, and I tried to steady my suddenly-quick breathing. Glaring, burning light lanced in as he cracked it open to murmur to Jesse and Tulip on the other side, and my eyes streamed and stung even after I turned away. When my vision cleared I glanced up for the first time, at the dark bulbs above my head, and realized with a start that we’d been sitting in near-perfect darkness. And all this time I’d been worried about Cass boating home at night…</p><p>When I was able to turn back to the door, Jesse was there, a soft halo of light surrounding him, dried blood painting his cheek like a decorative smear of compote on a fine piece of china. He was speaking, his eyes guarded, but the words washed over me, nothing more than an irritating distraction that I twitched away like a fly off my skin. I lunged forward, but was brought up short by the chafing leather against my wrists, and I growled my displeasure. My eyes darted down, to the hollow of his throat where I could see his pulse jumping under the skin; the thin, soft barrier that was all that stood between me and a flood of decadent, luscious, warm, life giving, satiating—Something blocked my view, and threatening snarl burst from my throat, my lips peeling back from my fangs.</p><p>“Juniper, that’s Jesse. He’s yer mate,” Cassidy was saying; his voice was soft, measured. “He gave yeh a place t’ stay in Annville, d’yeh remember? Up in t’ church attic, yeh had it all strung up wit’ pretty fairy lights.” With Jesse out of sight the growl died in my throat, and as my coiled steel muscles relaxed I slowly eased back against the pillow.</p><p>“Do you want me to stay?” Jesse asked, and at the sound of his voice, the reminder of his presence, thirst seared my throat again and I clenched my fists, my nails digging deep crescents in my palms.</p><p>“I t’ink it might be too much, too soon,” Cass said over his shoulder, and I glared obstinately.</p><p>“I’m <em>fine</em>,” I ground out, though my stomach again felt pinched and empty. A grin flashed across Cassidy’s face, and I wondered if he’d been counting on my sheer stubbornness to help me through. But when Jesse sidestepped into view again, his pulse fluttering harder now with nerves, I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. “<em>How?</em>” I groaned, and the bed sagged under Cassidy’s weight as he sat. “How do you do it?”</p><p>“Don’ ferget, <em>mo gréine</em>, I’ve a hundred years o’ practice on you.” His hand found mine, and I clung to him desperately. “An’ it’s hardest when it’s new. But…” He trailed off, and when I opened my eyes he was looking at the ceiling, his lips pursed, thinking. “Yeh do it fer the person yeh are when yeh’re not…thirsty, d’yeh know what I mean? It’d be good in th’ moment, if I let yeh murder the Padre—” He shot a grin at Jesse, who scoffed and crossed his arms. “But later, when yeh came back t’ yerself an’ Tulip was all upset, yeh know, yeh’d be goddamn miserable. Right?”</p><p>“Right,” I whispered, and he squeezed my hand gently. I swallowed hard and allowed myself a glance at Jesse, working to keep my eyes on his face, above his pulse point, away from that streak of blood that filled my mouth with eager saliva. <em>Jesse,</em> I reminded myself. Jesse who gave me a place to stay, who was my first friend away from home. He offered a tentative smile, but when I managed to return it his faded. Right. Fangs. “I’m…sorry,” I said haltingly, my jaw clenched against thirst and temptation. “Thank you for doing this.” Cass beamed at me proudly, and I let my head flop to the pillows, squeezing my eyes shut again.</p><p>“It’s no problem,” Jesse said. “If you want I can get Tulip. She’s sorry,” he added suddenly. “She wanted me to tell you.”</p><p>“She doesn’t need to be sorry,” I said, and when Cassidy scoffed softly I glared at him. “But I think I need a break.”</p><p>“Alright. Are y’all comin’ back to the motel?”</p><p>I opened my eyes to find Cass watching me, his raised eyebrows a question. The idea was tempting—the familiar space, the tiny, cozy bed, the knowledge that all I’d have to do was wait until Cassidy fell asleep—perhaps helped along by generous amounts of whiskey—and then those tender human throats, open and exposed in the moonlight…</p><p>“<em>No</em>,” I snapped, and cleared my aching throat. “No. I need more time.”</p><p>“Alright,” Jesse said, sounding bemused. “We’ll…see you around, then.”</p><p>“See you,” I whispered, and I felt Cassidy’s weight leave the bed as he followed Jesse to the door. When the door was closed and the room darkened again he returned to me, and I was finally freed of the restraints. My claddagh ring caught the light as I rubbed the red marks on my wrists, and it warmed me to see it returned to my finger.</p><p>He lowered the bedrail to climb in beside me, and when I rested my head on his chest he wrapped both arms around me, closing me in a protective embrace. In his arms I felt safe and warm and almost normal, and when his fingers traced the scar from my shoulder to my elbow I sighed, long and shuddering.</p><p>“Are yeh alright?” he murmured, and I inched closer to him, my eyes lowered with thought.</p><p>“I…don’t know,” I admitted, and when he froze for a moment I sighed. “I’m not upset with you. It’s just…I didn’t expect it to be so hard. You make it seem easy.” I paused, remembering his near-relapse in New Orleans. “Usually.”</p><p>“When I was firs’…this,” he said, gesturing to himself. “I ate a whole flock o’ sheep. One right after the other. Like a bleedin’ hotdog eatin’ contest.” Surprised laughter made me snort, and he hugged me around the shoulders. “Yeh’re doin’ fine.”</p><p>I tried to imagine being in this alone, dealing with the raging hunger and scorching thirst without any idea of what was happening or why, and squeezed him until he grunted. “You’re the best person I ever knew, Proinsias Cassidy,” I said, and when I glanced up he was flushed.</p><p>“Because I massacred a mutton farm?” he asked, teasing, and I swatted him.</p><p>“Because it…I <em>know</em> now how hard it must have been not to start hurting people and never stop,” I explained, and his lips pressed to my hair. “You’re good, and you’re strong, and you need to give yourself credit for that.”</p><p>His sigh was warm against my skin, and I felt a smile curve his mouth. “Yeh’re the boss,” he murmured, and I raised my head to kiss him. “I love yeh, Juniper Cassidy.”</p><p>“I love you too,” I said, and kissed him again before I rolled to rest my back against his chest. He spooned tightly against me, his nose lightly nuzzling the back of my neck, and the realization that now this could be every night, from now on, truly <em>forever</em>, carried me to sleep on a wave of contentment.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading! I always love getting thoughts from folks, if you'd be so kind!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0074"><h2>74. Gloating</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper explores what it means to be a vampire and celebrates the victory over the Grail with Cass.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The long row of empty hospital beds that was the first thing I saw when I awoke disoriented me, until I registered the stark red and white color theme and jerked to sitting, ready to bolt. A warm hand on mine stopped me and I turned to see Cassidy, his head pillowed on one arm, his eyes soft and his grin moony; I felt my answering loopy, lovestruck smile stretching my cheeks. He tugged me gently to lay my head on his chest, and when I brushed kisses over his skin his eyes fluttered closed and he sighed softly.</p><p>“Did yeh sleep alright?” he murmured, and I hummed a yes, distracted by the softness of his skin against my lips. He gasped as I sucked at his nipple gently, stiffening it, and when I climbed to lay on top of him he grinned up at me, slipping his hands under my waistband to caress my ass. “Yeh don’ know how nice it is,” he said, craning forward to graze his teeth over my neck playfully, “not bein’ distracted by wantin’ t’ kill yeh.”</p><p>I sighed as he kissed the tender skin he’d just nipped, grinding my hips against his growing hardness. “I didn’t—” I gasped as his hand dipped lower, the tip of one finger brushing my slit before he pulled back. “You never acted distracted.”</p><p>I squeaked as he flipped us easily, ending on his knees between my legs, a sly smile on his face. “Years o’ practice, <em>mo gréine</em>,” he said, and then his lips found my neck again, licking and biting and sucking with wild abandon as I writhed helplessly beneath him, slick with desperate want. When at last he’d had his fill of my throat his lips found mine, pillow soft but insistent and strong. My hands tangled in his hair of their own accord, my hips rolled against him, drawing a groan, and he pulled back for a moment to strip and toss aside his clothes. He tugged gently at the hem of my scrub top, an unspoken question, and I sat up for a moment to yank it off over my head, and shimmied out of my bottoms. When I was naked before him his eyes raked my body and I basked in the warmth of his crooked smile. “I wanna make love to yeh,” he murmured, his fingertips brushing the length of my collarbone, down between my breasts and over my ribs. “Is that alright?”</p><p>“Please,” I whispered, and his eyes closed for a moment, as though he was savoring the caress of a sweet-smelling breeze. When he entered me he was slow, controlled, and I gasped with the sweetness of him. He lowered himself to his elbows, close enough to kiss me, and he did, again and again with each slow thrust. Each sensation felt magnified, a hundred times more powerful than it had ever been before. I was in awe of the softness of his curls against my hands, the smoothness of his skin as I brushed my fingers down his back, the strong, sure play of his muscles as he moved—and all of it eclipsed by the perfect friction of his cock inside me. I thrust against him eagerly and he breathed a laugh, pressing his forehead to my collarbone.</p><p>“I love yeh.” His breath tickled my skin, made me shiver, and he groaned as I raised my hips to meet his again. “<em>Oh, </em>Juniper, yeh don’ know how good yeh feel,” he moaned, his rhythm beginning to speed.</p><p>“Show me,” I whispered, and when his large hand snaked between us and his fingers found my clit—clumsy with distraction but <em>there</em> and strong and perfect—his thickness within and his clever fingers without tore a keening gasp from my throat. “<em>Christ</em>, Cassidy,” I managed, and when he found his rhythm—each thrust accompanied by a slick finger sweeping over my clit—I bit into his shoulder harshly, a shudder rocking me and my legs clenching around his waist, squeezing him so close that his arm was crushed between us.</p><p>His hips bucked then, and his pace quickened, tiny groans escaping with every breath. “I want yeh t’ cum with me, Juniper,” he growled, and I nodded, my cheeks flushed red and breath coming in tiny pants. “Can yeh do that fer me?” His tiny circles over my clit became impossibly smaller, faster and more focused, and I shivered against him, my hips bucking wildly under his hands. “Oh, Jaysis,” he gasped, his forehead pressed hard to my collar. “Ah, <em>fuck—</em>”</p><p>Our voices mingled as we came, his deep growl and my strangled, ecstatic cry, and I clenched around him as he spilled his seed in me, each spasm drawing a shudder, a hitch in his continuous blissful moan. When he was spent he collapsed on top of me, gasping for breath, and I clutched him close, rubbing my cheek to his, entirely satisfied to exist in this perfect pocket universe for the rest of eternity.</p><p>“D’yeh want some breakfast?” Cass eventually asked, shaking me from a near-doze, and my thirst roared dully awake like a prodded bruise. “Human or otherwise,” he added, and I kissed his cheek.</p><p>“Yes to both…I think,” I said. “Will I still like normal food?” I felt suddenly nervous of losing that, though I’d never seen Cassidy turn down a meal, and he laughed softly as he left me to tug on his scrubs from the night before.</p><p>“It’ll still taste the same, it jes’…” He paused, his face screwed up in thought. “It won’t fill yeh up quite as well, d’yeh know what I mean? The eatin’ part isn’ different, but it feels a bit like it falls out a hole somewhere along the way, ‘stead o’ gettin’ t’ yer stomach.”</p><p>“Oh. Okay, well…yes to both, then.” I climbed out of bed, pausing to stretch on tiptoe and wrap my arms around his neck for a kiss, and dressed.</p><p>My eyes adjusted more readily to the light this time, though the hallway still felt garishly bright, and when he saw me squinting Cassidy produced a pair of sunglasses like magic from his pocket.</p><p>“Tulip’s,” he explained. “She left ‘em for yeh yesterday, said she wanted to help.”</p><p>They did help, and I swallowed a hard lump that formed in my throat at her kindness. “She knows I’m not mad, right?” I asked, my voice pleading, and he squeezed my hand.</p><p>“I’m sure Jess told her. An’ if not, yeh can tell her today. They’re comin’ back,” he said, and giddy excitement washed over me, and then a stab of hunger panged in my stomach and my eagerness was doused by fear.</p><p>“But yesterday, I was—” I began, but Cassidy flapped a hand at me.</p><p>“Yesterday yeh were <em>fine,</em> and today’ll be easier, like I said.” We turned off the hall into a room full of towering shelves, full of medical supplies of every description. “An’ if yeh’re not, Jess can Word yeh off her, yeh know.” He paused to peer back at me. “Th’ fridge is up this way. Are you feelin’ okay fer some grocery shoppin’?” His grin was teasing, but faltered at my scowl.</p><p>“Does it <em>matter </em>what I’m <em>feelin’ okay fer?</em>” I snapped, and brushed past him to find the fridge. It was taller than me, with glass doors, and full of bag after bag of blood—the lushest vending machine in the world. I swallowed the embers in my throat and snatched one of the bags, glaring at Cassidy as I drained it.</p><p>He had the good sense to look remorseful. “Okay, I shoulda asked yeh first,” he allowed, and I snorted. “But yeh really did do fine, an’ if I didn’ let Tulip in t’ see yeh she’d just break in, yeh know she would!” I softened at that, and he rushed on when he saw his opening. “<em>And</em> th’ idea about Jesse Wordin’ yeh is a good one, an’ yeh know it.”</p><p>“It is,” I grunted grudgingly, and he smirked. “<em>But </em>you need to talk to me about this stuff. It’s not fair to spring it on me.”</p><p>“Scout’s honor, from here out I will,” he said, and when he leaned to kiss my forehead I allowed it, though he had to dance backward after to avoid a swat. “Where d’yeh suppose they keep th’ human food around here?” he asked, and I shrugged. We wandered the halls together, and after a while I took Cassidy’s hand again, entwining our fingers—he didn’t comment, but when I glanced up a tiny smile had curved his lips, and his thumb brushed slow strokes over mine. It should have been eerie, in the endless empty tunnels that so recently had been filled with people who wanted to kill us, but with Cass beside me it was just fun. I whistled just to hear it echo, and he scoffed.</p><p>“Pat’etic,” he teased and, with his first finger and thumb in his mouth, released a whistle so loud and sudden that it made me jump, skittering sideways nearly into the wall.</p><p>“Teach me,” I pleaded, and by the time we reached the massive atrium with Humperdoo’s face enshrined forever in stained glass I’d progressed from simply spitting around my fingers to producing a tinny, thready whistle.</p><p>We hesitated in its high arched doorway and when I leaned into Cassidy, pressing my shoulder to his, he opened his arm to pull me against his side.</p><p>“T’ere was a Starbucks on the other side, over there,” he said, jerking his chin toward the opposite end of the atrium. “Unless yeh’d rather somethin’ else?”</p><p>“Starbucks is good,” I murmured, and he nodded, his face grim. We started across quickly, me nearly jogging to keep up with Cassidy’s long strides, but then he stopped short, staring at one of the pillars. “What is it?” I asked; the column was nondescript to me, identical to the rest, but Cass swallowed hard, his throat bobbing.</p><p>“This is where He had me,” Cassidy said. “God, I mean. Mad bastard.” I squeezed him hard and he pressed his lips to my hair, breathing deeply. “Yeh were right at our feet a coupla times, yeh know. I coulda reached out an’ touched yeh. But He’d done somethin’, I guess, so yeh couldn’ see us.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.” I pressed into him harder, remorse tearing at my stomach. “I should have tried harder—stayed to search and sent Jesse and Tulip without me.”</p><p>He chuckled dryly, without humor. “He’s <em>God, </em>yeh daft t’ing. If He didn’t want yeh findin’ us, yeh weren’t gonna.”</p><p>“I guess. Did He really offer to send us back to Washington?” I asked after a moment, and Cass blinked down at me.</p><p>“<em>Ireland</em>,” he said, and the reverence and love in his voice hurt my heart. “He did send me back. Fer a minute. Long enough t’…t’ see me Granny B, an’ Billy an’ Da an’ all th’ rest. An’ you were there, waitin’ t’ greet me when I came home from the Risin’.” His eyes had misted as he spoke, and my mouth worked silently; I had no words, nothing to say that could touch the scope of his sacrificing that.</p><p>“Dumbass really thought I’d let you go off to war without me?” I finally cracked, my voice rough, and Cass barked a hoarse laugh.</p><p>“So much fer knowin’ yeh in the womb an’ all that, eh?” he said, and crushed me to his chest for a long moment before we kept walking. “I can’t believe yeh attacked <em>God</em> wit’ naught but yer fists.” He paused, squinting down at me. “Mm. I can, I s’pose, but it was still somethin’ t’ see. An’ near naked at that.”</p><p>A low growl vibrated through my chest at the memory of Cass in pieces on the floor, and the smug, gleeful expression on God’s face at my wrath and Cassidy’s pain. “I’d do it again,” I snarled, and Cass kissed my temple lightly without slowing.</p><p>“I know yeh would, <em>mo gréine</em>, an’ I love yeh fer it.”</p><p>We’d reached the center of the atrium, where stained sunlight spilled through Humperdoo’s portrait to pool on the floor, and I paused, my head tilted as I considered the sunbeams with slitted, streaming eyes. Quickly, before I could think myself out of it, I thrust my hand into the sun.</p><p>Once, when I’d been new to tending our fire, I’d forgotten the poker with its tip resting deep in the embers. By the time I remembered it, the end in the fireplace was red hot, and the handle had burned a black and smoking divot into the wood floor. Without thought I snatched it up, and the blister across my palm kept my hand from closing fully for weeks.</p><p>This pain was like that, immediate and searing and agonizing, and I yanked back with a shout of pain, staring in horrified fascination at my steaming skin as it reddened and tightened and split across the knuckles.</p><p>Cass was at my side immediately, his face incensed, his hands flapping helplessly as I cradled my burned hand to my chest. “<em>What in th’ hell’d yeh do that for?!</em>” he snapped, and I glared.</p><p>“I was <em>curious!</em>” I retorted, and he rocked back on his heels, rolling his eyes heavenward, his nostrils flaring as he sighed deeply.</p><p>“Lemme see,” he said roughly, but when he took my hand to inspect it his touch was feather-light and careful. “D’yeh wanna swing back fer more blood, an’ heal it up?”</p><p>I pursed my lips, my gaze turning from the Starbucks logo in front back toward the blood bank behind, and shook my head. “It’s alright for now. I want a bagel.” He huffed a laugh, shaking his head, and we went on—carefully skirting the bright patch of sunlight.</p><p>He’d been right—the everything bagel and cream cheese was just as delicious as I remembered—but he’d been right too in that I’d eaten three before they even seemed to touch my hunger.</p><p>“We’ll wanna get yeh patched up before Tulip an’ Jesse come by,” Cass said around a mouthful of flaky danish. “’S harder not t’ lose yer head when yeh’re hurtin’, yeh know, an’ know blood’ll fix it.”</p><p>“Alright,” I agreed. “What does it feel like? The healing part?”</p><p>“Itchy. But jes’ fer a minute.”</p><p>He was right about that too, of course. The healing felt like an army of ants crawling over and under and through my skin—but the amazement of watching new pink flesh grow and replace the old burned stuff was almost fascinating enough to distract me. When it was done he took my hand again, examining the new skin for imperfections, and when he found none he pressed gentle kisses to each of my knuckles.</p><p>“Now lissen,” he said seriously, his brow furrowed. “Jes’ cause yeh can heal like that don’ mean you can go gettin’ yerself hurt all over th’ place fer no good reason, alright? I don’ like it.”</p><p>“I won’t if you won’t,” I teased, and his crooked smile was bashful.</p><p>“Fair deal,” he said, and we shook. “We oughta go get th’ door open fer Jess an’ Tulip.”</p><p>We set off again through the endless stone halls, competing now to see how could produce the loudest whistle—always him, but I was getting better. I paused outside one of the many doors; a tall double door with beautifully polished handles, my head tilted to one side.</p><p>“Yeh alright?” Cass asked, doubling back to join me, and I tapped the gleaming etched metal placard by the door: ‘Herr K. Starr – Allfather’. Cassidy’s nose wrinkled in disgust when he read it. “<em>Oh</em>. Him.”</p><p>“Yeah. I only saw him the one time, after they took you from the Rosen house. And barely then, I couldn’t really move.” I shivered as it came back to me; the great roar of the house being torn from its foundation and the screams of the Children as they burned—doubly horrifying now that I’d felt a fraction of what they had.</p><p>“Yeh didn’ miss much. Christ, he was ugly. Poor bastard.” Grinning mischievously, Cass pressed the pad of his thumb to the placard, besmirching the shiny, smooth metal with a perfect fingerprint.</p><p>“You’ve mentioned. It’s just weird to think that…a real guy sat in a real chair and tried to end the world. You know?” Inspiration flashed in Cassidy’s eyes and without answer he shouldered the door open to duck inside, and I followed. The office—the word felt reductive—was immense, all cool grey marble, with a fireplace set in one wall and two smart, sleek black chairs beside it. Cass beelined for the mini-fridge first, but when all it contained was row after row of Diet Dr. Pepper he scoffed and abandoned it. Undeterred, face still alight, he bound up the three shallow steps and vaulted the marble desk, sliding across it like Tom Cruise—God rest his soul—across the hood of a car, to sit in the massive black leather chair behind it, grinning cockily.</p><p>My steps were more tentative, cautious; part of me feared hidden trapdoors or spikes, and I wasn’t entirely sure that part was being irrational. “What are we doing?” I asked, exasperation coloring my tone, and Cassidy’s grin widened.</p><p>“<em>We—</em>” he began, but grew distracted rummaging through the desk’s drawers; when he sat up again a thick cigar with a silver label was pinched between his thumb and forefinger, and he took a long moment to sniff it appreciatively. “—are <em>gloating.</em>” He held out a second cigar to me, but I shook my head, my nose wrinkling. “Are yeh sure? This is a King o’ Denmark, one of ‘em costs more’n the jeep an’ <em>Béal Inse</em> put t’gether,” he tempted, and when I still refused he shrugged, tucking the second in his breast pocket. “More fer me,” he said, and lit the cigar still in his hand. He propped his filthy shoes on the desk, crossing one bare, skinny ankle neatly over the other, and leaned far back in Starr’s chair, his eyes closed, puffing perfect smoke rings into the air. I leaned against the desk, watching curiously, and when he opened one eye to peek and saw he had my attention he switched to blowing one large ring, and then three smaller ones through it in quick succession.</p><p>“Show off,” I teased, and when one corner of his mouth twitched up he lost his perfect chain of rings, releasing a shapeless cloud of smoke instead. When his eyes closed again and he resumed his studious puffing I tugged my scrub top off over my head, quickly but silently, and tossed it aside, followed by my pants and underwear. I shivered, my naked skin humping into gooseflesh, and when his eyes didn’t open I huffed a sigh, fighting impatience. I straddled his lap, too eager to wait until his attention happened on me, and when his hand came to my hip and found only bare skin his eyes popped open, wide as saucers, and I smirked.   </p><p>“What’re yeh doin’?” he asked hoarsely, his palm rubbing growing circles up my side and down my thigh, and his cock twitching against me.</p><p>“<em>We,</em>” I corrected, leaning close to kiss the line of his jaw, “are gloating.” I peeled off his shirt to reveal the darkly tattooed skin beneath and caught the nape of his neck, drawing him in for a warm tobacco-flavored kiss. His tongue brushed against my lips and I parted them obligingly to let him in, my fingers clenching in his hair as our tongues met. He took a final deep pull from the cigar and let it drop to the floor, freeing both hands to roam over my back, my ass, my thighs, everywhere he could reach. I kissed along his prickly jawline to his ear and nipped the lobe lightly, thrilling at his tiny gasp and the way his hips rolled. I seized the flesh of his neck between my teeth, grinding against him as I did, and answered his pleading moan with a growl. His cock strained against the fabric of his pants now, and when I palmed it he shivered.</p><p>“Jaysis, an’ I was excited about a bit o’ tobacco,” he gasped—his grin was predatory, exposing all of his teeth. I drew back, peering down at him with lust-darkened eyes, tracing the shapes of his collarbones with my fingertips; when his eyes closed and his head fell back to the headrest I trailed slow, looping patterns over the skin of his throat.</p><p>“I want you to fuck me over his desk,” I murmured; not quite an order but not a request either, and his grin grew feral and sharp when his eyes met mine again.</p><p>“<em>Christ</em> I love yeh,” he growled, and stood, hoisting me with him so that I hung suspended with my arms around his shoulders and my legs wrapped over his hips. I squeaked as my bare ass met the cold marble, but then he shimmied out of his pants, freeing his swollen, rigid cock and capturing my attention completely. He eased forward, his tip nudging against my folds, and it took all of my willpower to press my hand to his chest, stilling him. “What is it?” he asked; his voice concerned and only a little impatient.</p><p>I hopped off the desk and turned my back to him—making sure to brush my ass against his eager hardness as I did—and bent over the table, shivering against the stone and propping myself on my elbows, arching my back to open myself up to him. I heard his soft, wanting groan as he slid two fingers into me and I rocked back against him, whimpering for more. I hiked one knee up onto the desk so that only the toes of one foot rested on the ground, presenting my warm, wet slit to him and when his big hands took hold of my hips and he buried himself in me I couldn’t stop the joyful shout that passed my lips—and didn’t want to.</p><p>His right hand splayed by my head, taking his weight as he leaned over me, his breath coming in harsh bursts that warmed the skin of my neck. I rocked with him, moaning low and continuous, and his free hand slid around the curve of my hip, two fingers finding my clit and stilling there, so that as each thrust rocked me forward a wave of ecstatic pleasure rolled from my core outward, stealing the strength from my legs.</p><p>“<em>Fuck,</em> Cassidy,” I gasped, and his lips brushed over my shoulder blade a moment before his teeth caught my skin, a harsh growl rumbling in his chest, so loud and close that I felt the vibrations through my body. I clung to the edge of the desk; each time he withdrew my knuckles whitened as I strained not to be pulled with him and with each forceful lunge forward my thighs collided with the marble with bruising force. “Don’t stop,” I pleaded, and when hot breath from his deep chuckle rolled across my shoulders I moaned.</p><p>“No chance o’ that, love,” he murmured against my neck, and then his cock inside me and his fingers against me and his warm body above me found perfect, resonating harmony and stars exploded across my vision as I came, my toes curling and body shuddering with the force of it. He followed moments later with a shout, his fingers digging deep in the flesh of my hip and his forehead pressed hard to the space between my shoulder blades.</p><p>He pulled out and I climbed to sprawl on the cool surface of the desk, and when he joined me I curled against his side, my head resting on his chest, fingering the smooth planes of his hipbones as he drowsed. We lay there so long that the marble warmed beneath us and Cassidy’s gentle snores filled the air. My mind wandered, back to our cabin in Washington, to the sea and the towering trees and damp, soft forest floors that were so different from the endless golden sand of Masada, and I ached hollowly with homesickness.</p><p>I was drifting, my mind split between the dim marble office and a dream of padding silently through the woods, drinking in every scent and sound and sight, when something disturbed the stillness that had only previously been broken by Cass snoring. I sat up, head tilted, trying to figure the source of the interruption. The seconds stretched out into minutes and there was nothing, and I began to wonder if I’d dreamed it. I sank back down, lowering my head to Cassidy’s shoulder, and I’d nearly dozed off again when it came; quiet, echoing down the hallways from a great distance, but unmistakable.</p><p>An explosion.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! I appreciate you!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0075"><h2>75. Stasis</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper sees Tulip for the first time since the failed Apocalypse.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My heart pounded to bursting in my chest, fear pulling my lips away from my teeth as Cassidy and I raced toward the source of the explosions—they came more frequently now, guiding us through the vast labyrinth of tunnels to their point of origin. The stone seemed to blur beneath my feet as I ran, and even in my panic I noted with a thrill how little effort the sprint seemed to take, how easily I left Cassidy in my dust, gaining ground on him with each stride.</p><p>The steady string of detonations led us to the rough-hewn, high-ceilinged hall and impenetrable metal doors where Tammy had met her grisly end. They ceased as I skidded to a halt, the echoes of the last great blast dying away as Cass reached me, panting. My hands flew to my ears against a deafening grating of stone on stone and then I was on the ground, my hip and shoulder aching where I’d struck the floor; Cassidy had tossed me roughly behind the great stone desk and joined me a moment later.</p><p>The doors stilled and all went quiet; bright sunlight filled the chamber. As my ears adjusted to the sudden hush I began to recognize the tiny sounds of my surroundings—Cass, still panting, audible even through the hand he’d clasped over his mouth to stifle himself. My own heart, speeding with exertion and fear, a rapid beat that I felt in my throat and heard rushing in my ears. The whisper of boots over stone, belonging to a tall black shadow that appeared on the wall. The cocking of a pistol.</p><p>Cass pushed down hard on my shoulder, and when I glanced at him he pointed at the floor, his face stern; a clear order to stay put. I scowled and shook my head rapidly—what was the point of being bulletproof and immortal if he was still the one walking into danger? He rolled his eyes and glared still more severely; now the finger jabbed toward my face before stabbing at the floor again, his other hand tightening over my shoulder near to the point of pain, and my nostrils flared with a silent sigh before I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest sulkily. He grinned crookedly, triumphant, and kissed the tip of his finger before touching the end of my nose lightly.</p><p>He clambered into a low crouch, his head cocked, listening closely to the soft footsteps, tracking their progress across the room. When the shadow passed from the light he struck, leaping nimbly over the desk with teeth bared. There was a scuffle, and a short scream—Cassidy’s—and an exasperated sigh.</p><p>“Where the hell have you been? You were supposed to open the doors an hour ago!” I popped up from my hiding place to see Cassidy laid out on the floor, gingerly prodding his bloodied nose, and Jesse stood over him, fists at his hips, the knuckles of one hand split and bleeding. I was more prepared for the sear of thirst this time, but at the sight of the fresh blood running down his fingers I swallowed convulsively, my tongue flicking out to wet my lips, and grabbed the edge of the desk, bracing against the lure of it. Jesse glanced up as I surfaced, and when he followed my gaze down to his injured hand he scrubbed it hastily against his pants, easing the temptation just a bit.</p><p>“Sorry, mate. Clocks’re all buggered,” Cass said, shooting me a smirk, and groaned as Jesse hauled him to his feet. Jesse rolled his eyes and strode back out into the sun, cupping his hands at his mouth to yell up the side of the mountain.</p><p>“<em>They’re fine, they’re just stupid!</em>” he hollered, and when he returned to us he carried our duffel bag and a rocket launcher—the source of the explosions. “We thought you got booby trapped or somethin’,” he explained, his worry layered with a generous portion of irritation.</p><p>“Aw, ‘s nice t’ know yeh care, Padre.” Cassidy chucked him under the chin affectionately with a grin, and he jerked his head away, glaring.</p><p>“Thanks for bringing our stuff, Jess,” I said, edging around the corner of the desk—both Jesse and Cass went stiff, eyeing me anxiously, but I waved away their concern. “I’m good, so far. Just…go slow.” Jesse nodded, but Cassidy returned to me, taking my hand firmly; at once a reassurance, grounding me, and a tether. Frustration curled my lip for a moment, but I closed my eyes, breathing deeply, trying to call to mind how the aftermath of killing Jesse would hurt, and after a moment I squeezed Cassidy’s hand gratefully.</p><p>A shower of sand and pebbles clattered to the ground outside as Tulip slid the last few meters down the steep slope, landing in a cloud of dust. I expected her temper to be flaring after we left them to wait and worry in the sun and heat, but when she raised her head her eyes were gleaming, her lip swollen and red where she’d nibbled it anxiously. She took one cautious step toward me and then she was running, from the glaring sunlight into deep shadow where I stood.</p><p>“Juniper! Christ, Juniper, I’m sorry, I coulda killed you, I <em>did </em>kill you—” I’d lowered into a half crouch, my hands curled into claws at my sides, and she saw my open arms and came faster, her arms outstretched, her pulse racing like the wings of a hummingbird at her throat. My mouth filled with eager saliva that did nothing to help the dryness and burning in my throat, but this human would, <em>oh </em>she would<em>—</em></p><p>“<em>No!</em>” Jesse threw his arm out, catching her hard in the chest, and she bounced back with a cry, her eyes hurt and wondering. Cassidy had been distracted, watching her approach, but at Jesse’s shout he turned to me, his eyes wide, and splayed one large hand against my chest; I snarled at his insolence.</p><p>“<em>Ow</em>, Jesse, what the hell are you doin’?!” Tulip snapped, rubbing at her sternum tenderly, but Jesse’s eyes were on me, one hand behind his back on the pistol I guessed to be at his waist, his throat working.</p><p>“Tulip’s yer best friend, yer <em>very </em>best friend since Annville, you two helped me when I was all burned up, an’ came t’ rescue me t’gether, set up my homecomin’ party, yeh know her, Juniper, come on…” Cass was saying, but I’d come back to myself at the familiar cadences of her impatience and irritation and I swallowed, nauseous with the shame of what I might have done.</p><p>“She’s not <em>safe</em>,” Jesse hissed to Tulip, and Cass turned to glare.</p><p>“She’s <em>gettin’ </em>there, she jes’ told yehs t’ go slow an’ th’ firs’ thing yeh do is run up on her! What’d yehs expect?!” I covered his hand that still rested on my chest with mine, and he turned back to me, his eyes searching.</p><p>“I’m alright,” I murmured, though my stomach still howled hollowly. I peeked around him and met Tulip’s eyes, and allowed myself one deep inhale and exhale as I acclimated to the presence of two humans and the two pulses fluttering alluringly at their throats. “I’m sorry, Tulip. Are you okay?”</p><p>“I’m fine other than this goddamn moron trying to break my sternum,” she said, glaring at Jesse, and he rolled his eye. “Are you good?” Her hands still drifted toward me, and I longed to go to her—though whether it was to hug her or drain her varied from moment to moment.</p><p>“She’d be a damn sight better if yeh hadn’ tried t’ do her in,” Cassidy grumbled, and Tulip lowered her eyes, truly remorseful for the first time since I’d known her.</p><p>“<em>Enough</em>, Cassidy.” Jesse’d opened his mouth to protest, but I was faster, and he shut it again, amusement curling his lips. “I’m okay, Tulip, and I’m not mad at you.” I drew a deep breath, my heart aching as I recalled the perfect love I’d felt in Humperdoo’s presence. “If I’d been alone with him for months I think I woulda killed for him too, you know?” At that she sniffled harshly, dragging the back of her arm across her eyes, and Jesse snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her close. “I’m just still learning to uh...not murder people.” </p><p>“Okay. I’m sorry,” she added again, and I sighed, turning to Cassidy. He frowned sulkily for a moment before he crossed to her in three big strides, scooping her in a tight hug that lifted her from the floor.</p><p>“That’s fer Juniper,” he explained as he set her back on her feet. “I’m still sore wit’ yeh,” he added, but he grinned down at her as he said it, and some of the thick tension between them seemed to dissipate.</p><p>I hoisted the duffel back to my shoulder and we headed back into the depths of Masada together; I pretended not to notice Cassidy and Jesse’s constant shifting to keep themselves between Tulip and me. We broke into the kitchen and gorged ourselves on juicy, perfectly ripe fruit and decadent desserts as Jesse and Tulip filled me in on their parts in averting Armageddon. The longer we chatted the easier it became to ignore the aching emptiness of my stomach and the burn of thirst in my throat, until I felt almost as though nothing had changed at all. When they claimed to be stuffed we wandered the halls again, heading in the general direction of the hospital wing to put away our bag, but when we reached it Tulip scoffed.</p><p>“Why the hell’re you sleepin’ down here?” she asked, and Cass and I exchanged bemused looks.</p><p>“It’s where I woke up, and we just never thought to move, I guess,” I said, and she snorted, disgusted.</p><p>“C’mon,” she said, jerking her head, and led us to an elevator, and when we emerged several levels above the halls were wide open and airy, studded with sets of double doors of darkly finished oak. She shouldered one of the doors; when it didn’t move she put a bullet through the keyhole and they swung bonelessly inward. “If you’re gonna exile yourselves, you might as well do it in style.”</p><p>The suite was easily as large as the hospital wing, but with a single bed rather than twenty; a king-sized one swathed in golden blankets and starkly white sheets. Huge bouquets of flowers covered every surface; the heat had dried them into incidental potpourri, so the air of the room was sweetly scented. Sunlight filtered through pale curtains that turn it buttery and soft, and one of the panelled walls opened into a huge bathroom; wilted rose petals were scattered over the edge of the stone tub and onto the floor.</p><p>“They had Jesus stayin’ in here,” Tulip explained. “Or Hitler. One of the two.”</p><p>“Why the hell are we stayin’ at Kamal’s when this is here?” Jesse asked, and Tulip shrugged.</p><p>“Go get our stuff, if you wanna stay here,” she challenged, and he turned sulkily away, crushing dry flower petals between his fingertips. “Listen,” Tulip said, digging in her bag. “We’re gettin’ outta here in the morning. Back home.” She produced four plane tickets and held two of them toward us—for Juniper Custer and Cassidy O’Flanahan. “The flight leaves before sunrise, we made sure, so that ain’t a problem. Are you two comin’?”</p><p>I eyed the tickets jealously, considering. It would be difficult—really difficult. At the thought of being locked in a plane cabin, surrounded by so many heartbeats, so much rushing blood, fire leapt back to life in my throat, like sparks kicked up by the stirring of embers. But then we’d be home, back in the life we’d built together, surrounded by cool woods and sea breezes. I could do it. With Cass on one side, and Jesse and Genesis on the other, I was sure—</p><p>“Can’t,” Cass said, glancing at me apologetically, and I fumed.</p><p>“I <em>can</em>,” I insisted, incensed. “You guys won’t let me hurt anyone. You can Word me out of even <em>wanting</em> blood,” I added to Jesse. “<em>Please</em>, Proinsias.” His eyes closed as though my words pained him, and a stab of satisfaction made me feel guilty.</p><p>“’S not you, <em>mo gréine</em>. It’s th’ full moon tonight.”</p><p>“Oh.” I glanced at the window, and even with the curtain closed I could see that the light was shifting, the shadow of the mountain growing long. “I guess that would be a problem,” I said, forcing a smile.</p><p>“We can stay then,” Tulip said quickly, and Jesse’s eyebrows rose. “Til you’re ready.”</p><p>My eyes welled, and I balled my fists against the desire to wrap my arms around her. “No, you two go home. Celebrate not being dead and the world still turning.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” Tulip asked, squinting at me, and I nodded.</p><p>“But don’t fall off the face of the earth this time, alright? We missed you.”</p><p>“Well, we won’t be hiding from these fuckers this time,” Tulip said, gesturing to the base around us. “That’ll make it easier to keep in touch.”</p><p>We walked them slowly back to the huge main doors, and when I edged close enough to take Tulip’s hand no one protested, though Cassidy flanked me so closely I could hear his breathing, and I could feel Jesse’s glaring, watchful eye on the back of my neck. My stomach roared at the closeness of her, the quiver of her pulse under my fingers, but I clung to every memory I had of her, from her jarring invasion of Emily’s home to her sudden reappearance the night of Cassidy’s proposal, and the desire for her blood was nothing compared to the need to see her safe and whole.</p><p>The sun was behind the mountain when we reached the exit, so Cass and I trailed them out to the Chevelle, loath to say goodbye. The stone was warm beneath my feet, even through the soles of my shoes, and for the first time the ache of what I’d lost echoed through me. Jesse seized Cassidy’s hand firmly to shake it, and Cass scoffed and yanked him into a hug, slapping him on the back so hard he winced. He hugged Tulip too, all trace of his grudge forgotten, until she wriggled to be put down.</p><p>“Fly safe now, alright?” he ordered, and cleared his hoarse throat. I held my breath as Tulip slowly approached, and when she threw her arms around me, her pulse pounding at her neck and wrists, I clenched my teeth so hard they ached and turned my face away from the soft curve of her neck, managing only a quick pat on her back before I pulled away. Jesse clasped my hand warmly in both of his, smiling down at me.</p><p>“Take care of her, okay?” I asked him, and he scoffed.</p><p>“She’s the one that takes care of me. But I’ll try,” he promised, and I squeezed his hand hard before he pulled away.</p><p>I pressed into Cassidy’s side as they eased the Chevelle down the mountain road, swallowing against a new ache in my throat, and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head.</p><p>“We’ll see them again, right?” I asked, suddenly unsure, and Cassidy’s silence spun out too long before he pecked the top of my head again.</p><p>“Bet on it.” <br/>~~~~<br/>“I don’ like this,” Cass said again, slightly muffled by the tall stack of bedding in his arms, and I sighed.</p><p>“I don’t love it either, but I don’t think there’s a better option. It’s just one night.” We were headed down, and down, and down, to the damp dungeons where Cass and the Archangel had been imprisoned, and the only place I felt sure could hold me when I shifted out of control.</p><p>“At least lemme find yeh some valium or somethin’, take the edge off…” he suggested, and I kissed his shoulder.</p><p>“There’s not time now. If you wanna stuff some in a hotdog and toss it in after, that’d be good,” I said, only half joking, and he snorted.</p><p>“Well no, I’m not gonna leave yeh alone down here, <em>Clúmhach</em><em>’s</em> used t’ me now, she’d get lonely.” He paused outside the first cell we came to, peering in through the high barred window in the door. “This’ll do,” he said, and opened it.</p><p>“<em>Clúmhach</em>?” I repeated, and was proud when my approximation didn’t make him cringe. “You…named my wolf self?” I asked, my eyes narrowed, and he grinned crookedly.</p><p>“Means ‘fluffy’,” he explained, and I sighed. He dropped his heap of blankets and pillows to take my hands in his, his brow furrowing as he searched my face. “Are yeh <em>sure</em> yeh’ll be alright in here?”</p><p>“Once it starts, I won’t remember anything,” I assured him, smoothing the wrinkle between his eyes with my thumb. “You know that.”</p><p>“I know, I jes’…don’ like it,” he said again, and I groaned my exasperation, softening the blow with a kiss.</p><p>“You’ve <em>said, </em>sweetheart. I love you for caring, but I need you to get out now.” I kissed him again and rubbed my nose to his before I shooed him to the door, tugging it shut behind him. I heard him settle with his back to it, and pressed my back to my side, wishing silently that I’d claimed one of the blankets. “I miss holding your hand through the bars,” I complained begrudgingly, and he scoffed softly.</p><p>“It’s just one night,” he teased, parroting my accent, and I laughed. I rested my chin on my knees, wishing I knew the time, or could see the sky. The involuntary shift was bad, but the waiting for it, knowing it was coming but not when, was worse.</p><p>“What’s copper nitrate?” Cass asked suddenly, his voice echoing oddly from outside, and I groaned.</p><p>“Please, no,” I complained, but I was sure he could hear the smile in my voice.</p><p>“Overtime fer policemen,” he said, and I snorted. “What d’yeh get when yeh drop a piano down a mineshaft?” he went on, and before I could respond—“A flat miner. Get it? Like music?”</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>, I get it,” I said. “It’s just bad, even for you.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, that one’s a bit shite,” he allowed, and I scoffed.</p><p>“<em>A bit. </em>How do you still have more of these?” It was how we’d passed the wait every full moon, and every month I loved him more for it.</p><p>“I bin stowin’ ‘em away fer a century, jes’ waitin’ fer a helpless victim wit’ no choice but to hear ‘em,” he teased. “Where d’yeh find giant snails?”</p><p>“Where do you find giant snails, Cassidy?” I asked with an exaggerated air of longsuffering.</p><p>“<em>At th’ end o’ giant’s fingers!</em>” he finally managed between snorting laughs, and I groaned theatrically.  </p><p>He went on and on, each joke worse than the last, thoroughly distracting me, but they came further and farther between until at last he ran out of steam and I realized it had been at least an hour.</p><p>“Cass?” I said, suddenly uncertain, and by the sudden stutter of his breath I was sure he’d been dozing.</p><p>“Mm?”</p><p>“Are you sure it’s tonight? The full moon?” I stared up at the ceiling, as though if I tried hard enough I could see the night sky beyond it.</p><p>“’Course I’m sure,” he said, surprised. “I bin keepin’ track since yeh bolted on us from Dennis’ flat. Why?”</p><p>The tips of my fingers stung as I clenched them against the rock floor of the cell. “Nothing’s happening.” I rocked backwards suddenly as the door I’d been leaning against opened behind me, and Cassidy joined me on the floor; when I grabbed his hand he squeezed my fingers reassuringly.</p><p>“Well, what if yeh…help it along, like? Do it on purpose?” I nodded, but reaching for the wolf was like trying to take the next of a flight of stairs when you were already on the last; the sudden swooping sensation that something should have been there and <em>wasn’t.</em> I swallowed hard against the dread trying to close my throat. “Juniper?” Cassidy reached to cradle my face but I shook my head jerkily, squeezing my eyes shut and trying again, stretching for that other side of me that had there as long as I could remember. Where the wolf had always been, waiting to tear free of my fragile human body, was nothing; an empty room where I’d always found an old friend.  </p><p>“It’s gone.” My voice was small, choked, and Cassidy frowned.</p><p>“What d’yeh mean, <em>gone?</em>” he asked. “How can it be gone?”</p><p>“I don’t <em>know!</em>” I scrambled to my feet, pacing the tiny cell in a panic. Again I called on it, and again nothing happened, and my hands flew to my head as though I was trying to batter down my fear. “This has never happened to me before, I’ve never heard of it happening to <em>anyone</em> before, I have to call Daddy, maybe he’ll know—” I wheeled from one of my short paths across the stone floor to see Cassidy, his eyes downcast, his jaw working and his hands fisted in his lap. “What?”</p><p>“Juniper, I t’ink…I t’ink it’s me,” he said, and his voice seemed to echo from a deep chasm in his chest. “What I done t’ yeh.”</p><p>“What you…” I began, but then I understood, and my arms flopped to my sides. “When you bit me?” I gazed down at my palms absently, my throat working, and he nodded.</p><p>“So <em>stupid</em> I di’n’t t’ink of it before. But it…fer humans, it stops yeh changin’, yeh know. Agin’. Fer you…” He gestured to me helplessly, avoiding my eyes.</p><p>“I’m stuck like this. Forever.” The stone scraped my back as I slid down it to sit on the floor, and I welcomed the pain. My skin felt too tight suddenly, claustrophobic, my body weak and slow and useless.</p><p>“I’m sorry, <em>mo gréine</em>, if I’da known I wouldn’ve…I would’ve…I…” He trailed off into miserable silence, his head bowed with the knowing that there was nothing he could have, or would have, done differently. A tiny part of me clamored to go to him, but I was frozen, the thousands of tiny things I’d never stopped to appreciate an unending film strip in my mind. Hearing every strain of birdsong and trill of insects for a square mile. Drawing a single breath and knowing every plant and animal that surrounded me or had passed by in the last week. Letting loose a howl and hearing the chorus that returned it, the joyful reassurance that I wasn’t alone. Paws pounding bare, soft earth as I galloped headlong through the woods, fearing nothing under the sun.</p><p><em>Oh. </em>The sun.</p><p>I hadn’t grieved it before this, but now, with loss of so much of who I was, the thought of never feeling the sun again opened a new raw wound in my gut, and I curled in on myself, hugging my knees to my chest as tight as I could, desperate to close it.</p><p>Distant pressure over my shoulder. Cassidy. His palm came to my cheek, his eyes glistening as he saw the despair in my face.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Juniper,” he said, and seemed to flinch against the smallness of the words. I shrugged his hand away, clenching my jaw against the desire to yell at him, to scream, to make sure he knew just how stupid and small and worthless the words were. He’d stripped me of what made me <em>me</em>, of what tied me to my family, of something that brought me joy and set me apart, and replaced it with eternal thirst and hunger and shadow. And I couldn’t even fairly lash out at him over it, and the injustice of it all made me want to kick and punch and scream and bite until he was hurting like me.</p><p>I squeezed my eyes shut so hard that tears leaked from their corners, and then pressed the heels of my hands into them until I saw stars. “I love you, Cass.” I forced the words out past bared teeth; it took everything I had to sound genuine, make sure he knew it was still true. “But get out. <em>Please.</em>”</p><p>He drew a sharp breath, and a cool draft rushed between us as he backed away. I kept my hands firmly against my eyes, the stars giving way to bright strobing, so I didn’t see when he brought the blanket; only felt its weight around my shoulders. He inhaled again, as if he wanted to speak, but seemed to think better of it and only brushed his fingertips along the length of my cheekbone.</p><p>“I love yeh, Juniper. I’m sorry,” he said, and he was gone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! I appreciate you!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0076"><h2>76. Loophole Situation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper works to cope with a sudden change in her identity.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I reached for the wolf again, though by now I knew it was futile—I’d spent ages alone in the dark, trying over and over the familiar mental flex that had always brought on the needling itch and the bone-grinding pain of shifting. I couldn’t stop trying; like dialing the number of a loved one who’s dead and gone when you know full well it’s been disconnected. Instead of the warm comfort of someone I’d always known and expected to be there for the rest of my life I found only cold silence.</p><p>My knuckles were split and bleeding, my palms bruised from beating them against the floor in my helpless hurt; my throat raw from screaming it to the stone ceiling. I tried once more, squeezing my eyes shut and clenching my fists until they ached, reaching for the shift like plunging an arm blindly down a rabbit hole. It was <em>there</em>, I knew it, if I could just reach far enough, stretch my fingertips to their very limits, then perhaps—</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>At last I gave up, gave in. I slid slowly along the wall until my head rested against the cold stone floor, and tears ran down my nose to pool beneath my cheek as I grieved for the power and sureness and sense of uniqueness I’d lost, the experiences that had bonded me to my family that would never happen again.</p><p>My family. What would they think? The sobs came again as I recalled the way they’d treated Cassidy; tossed out as soon as he’d been able to walk, me a prisoner in my own home rather than being with him. I shuddered as Daddy’s words rolled like thunder through my mind—<em>rot and blood! You can’t trust them, you never can!</em> Would he think the same of me now? Would he even let me explain that it had been life or death? A thousand catastrophes blurred through my mind and I brought my shaking hands to my face, trying to block them out.</p><p>They wouldn’t go—Cypress’ face twisted in disgust, my Mama turning her back on me, Ash refusing to speak to me, my people shutting me out—I curled in on myself, and let the grief suck me under. <br/>~~~~<br/>There was no way to tell how long it had been when I surfaced. My eyelids felt heavy, scratchy, the skin of my cheeks raw with the salt of tears. My throat was sore and my head ached and I was so tired I could have slept there on the cell floor. But I felt lighter too, hollowed out. The loss of myself still ached with every breath like a fractured rib, but the hurt was diminished somewhat, small enough to tuck away in a corner. There was room in me now for more than mourning, but when I remembered sending Cassidy away that space flooded with remorse and regret, nearly as painful. </p><p>I stumbled to my feet, tugging the blanket Cass had left me tighter around my shoulders, deliberately straightening each slow and stiffened limb. In the elevator I stared foggily at the numbered buttons for long minutes, trying to remember which level the beautiful suite Tulip had guided us to was on. In the end, I impatiently jabbed the button for the topmost floor—penthouses were on upper floors, right?—and hoped for the best. An age seemed to pass between each chime of a passing floor, and I growled at what had to be the slowest elevator in Israel. At last the doors slid smoothly open on the highest level, but I could tell at a glance that it wasn’t right; the walls here were narrow and rough, nothing like the neatly carved and carefully sanded stones of the suite hallway. I punched the button for the next level down, but it was the same function-over-form type of design, tunnels hacked into the rock as though the mountain had personally slighted the Grail.</p><p>Anxiety wormed deeper into my chest with each failure. I’d never sent Cass away like that before, and rarely heard him at such a loss for words. He hadn’t even done anything <em>wrong</em>, he’d had no way of knowing what it would mean if he bit me—other than that it could save my life. It would serve me right if he called up Jesse and Tulip and left with them after all, it was nothing more than I deserved.</p><p>I swiped the heel of my hand across my eyes as the doors chimed open again, distantly amazed that I had any more tears left in me. My breath caught as I recognized the hallway; the high arched ceilings and the ornate pillars carved at even intervals along its walls. I began at a walk, but by the time I reached the sagging open doors with the bullet hole where their lock had been I was running, and I flung them open breathlessly, squinting against the dazzling morning light, an apology already bursting from my lips.</p><p>Empty. The room was just as we’d left it the day before, down to the wrinkles in the impeccably straightened duvet where we’d sat on the bed. The duffel bag that Cass and I shared still lay undisturbed in the spot I’d dropped it on the floor, and the vise around my chest loosened somewhat. I wheeled and jogged back to the elevator, but when my rapid-fire jabs at the button didn’t summon it immediately my fragile patience broke and I growled and turned away, searching for a more immediate route.</p><p>The crash of the fire door against the wall was deafening in the otherwise silent hall, and I flew down the stairs half a flight at a time, my gait more controlled fall than run. When I reached the floor the hospital wing was on my palms stung as they slammed into the metal door, and I flinched as my momentum carried me across the hall—I caught myself against the wall, my palms stinging again as they scraped against the rough rock.</p><p>The hospital wing was abandoned too, the sole used bed sticking out sharply among the rest, with their tightly tucked scarlet blankets and perfectly rectangular white pillows. I sank slowly onto the bed Cass and I had shared, toying with the handcuff that still hung from its railing. He wouldn’t have <em>left </em>left, I was sure. I couldn’t help but reach for the wolf again, like prodding the empty, sore spot where a lost tooth had been, but this time I felt only dull bitterness when there was nothing. How did people find other people without a scent trail? It felt impossible in this maze—he could turn up here in this room two minutes after I’d left to go search somewhere else, and neither of us would be the wiser. He could be on his way now, just about to round the corner; he’d stop in the doorway, frozen, a crooked, hesitant smile on his lips, and I could go to him…</p><p>I watched the door, my breath held with anticipation, until my lungs seared with protest and I slouched, frowning. Eyes shut, I meticulously went over the day before, trying to think of anywhere else Cass might have disappeared to. We’d woken up here. Crossed the atrium for something to eat. Found Herr Starr’s office. Then the kitchens with Jesse and Tulip—</p><p>The kitchens. Clear as day I could see them, the bottles of sherry and wine and brandy and rum for use in dishes I had no names for, and I sighed and stood. I was nearly back to the elevator when a  grating roar sounded behind me, shattering in the silence and catapulting my heart to my throat where it took off in a full gallop. I spun to face the source of the sound, snarling, but as suddenly as it had come it trailed off into silence. I squinted down the hall suspiciously as my heart slowed and eased back down to its proper place in my chest, but it was several breaths before it came again, and when it did I laughed with relief and recognition. Snoring.</p><p>I followed the noise back down the hall, past the hospital wing, to the medical supply room from the day before, and the tension between my shoulders broke like an overtaxed elastic band when I saw Cassidy. My relief gave way to concern as I padded closer—the breaks between his snores were too long, each inhale beginning with a gasp like he was bursting through the surface of deep water. He’d started out sitting against the wall, but had slumped to his side on the stone floor in a way that gave my back and neck sympathetic twinges. I winced when I saw the bottles; not the rum and brandy bottles from the kitchen but a mishmash of orange pill bottles and amber glass ones and clear plastic. Isopropyl alcohol, oxycodone, iodine, midazolam, ketamine, cisatracurium, isoflurane…my throat tightened as I read the names.</p><p>“Oh, Cass…” I sighed, but of course there was no response; he was dead to the world. I joined him on the floor and carefully tugged his heavy head into my lap, combing my fingers gently through his messy curls. My chest ached as I gazed down at him, and I leaned my head back against the wall, closing my eyes against yet more tears that wanted to come.</p><p>The sensation of falling jerked me rudely from a daze and I caught myself against the stone floor—I’d begun to slide to one side just as Cassidy must have. As I searched my surroundings muzzily I realized the quality of his snores had changed; they were coming closer together now, shallower, nearer to a normal sleep. I glanced down to find him wincing, his eyes squinted shut and one eyebrow pulled down severely. My fingers went automatically to the ridge above it, rubbing circles from there to his temple, and with a soft sigh his face smoothed out. His snores continued to dwindle, so slowly the change was nearly imperceptible, until with an abrupt snort they stopped. One eye slitted open and rolled to regard me blearily, and he swallowed hard before he closed it again, turning his face away to press it into my thigh.</p><p>“’M sorry, Juniper.” His voice was hoarse and raw, muffled against my leg, and somehow held the broken tone of a lost child and the exhaustion of someone who’s lived a thousand lifetimes all at once.</p><p>I stroked the back of his neck, gently kneading the cords there, brushing my thumb over his nape. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” I murmured, but when I bent to kiss his hair he pulled away.</p><p>He shook his head, his shoulders rising and falling with a heavy sigh. “I shoulda t’ought—”</p><p>“You would have done the same thing,” I said, and when he flinched at my unintentional rough tone I squeezed his neck reassuringly. “Listen, Cass, I’m…upset. This sucks. But if you hadn’t done what you did I wouldn’t be alive to <em>be </em>upset.”</p><p>“S’pose that’s true,” he muttered. “But I don’ blame yeh fer hatin’ me.”</p><p>“<em>Hating </em>you?!” I repeated, shocked. “Proinsias Cassidy, you are <em>ridiculous. </em>I love you.”</p><p>A shuddering sigh shook him, and when I took his blindly groping hand he clung to it like a drowning man, pressing it to his cheek. “’S jes’…When yeh tole me t’ get out las’ night, I t’ought…I worried we were done.”</p><p>“<em>No!</em>” The noise made him flinch and groan, and I resumed my light circles at his temple. “I just needed some time.”</p><p>“So yeh <em>are</em> mad at me.” It came as a statement rather than a question, his voice resigned, and I sighed.</p><p>“Not at you. I’m just <em>mad.</em>” My voice broke as I said it, and my eyes, so dry and heavy, managed to produce still more tears. “It’s not <em>fair</em>. It’s like the best of me is just gone, and I didn’t…it sounds so stupid, but I didn’t get to say goodbye to it, you know?” He cringed as though my words hurt him, his face pressing harder against my thigh. “And if you’d stayed I would have taken it out on you. But listen, Cass, look at me.” His shoulders rose with a deep, bracing breath before he turned his head to meet my eyes, his squinting and watery against the light. “<em>You didn’t do anything wrong</em>. Alright?” He searched my face for long moments before he nodded once, barely perceptible. “You kept me alive, the only way you could. I love you,” I murmured, and bent to kiss him, wrinkling my nose against the burning whiff of rubbing alcohol on his breath.</p><p>His eyes gleamed wetly a moment more before he closed them. “Thank you.”</p><p>“And I’m gonna marry the shit out of you,” I added, and when his soft laugh ended in a wince I stroked his forehead, smoothing the wrinkles there. “But you can’t go hitting the self-destruct button every time we run into a snag, alright?”</p><p>“Oh, this ‘s nothin’, jes’ blowin’ off steam, yeh know?” he said with a weak smile, as though I should find that reassuring. “I di’n’t even touch the urban blight room.”</p><p>“The urban—” I decided I didn’t want to know. “Does blood fix hangovers?” I asked, brushing my fingers over his forehead again.</p><p>“Fixes everythin’,” he said, and I could see the effect as we sat shoulder to shoulder, sipping from blood bags like children from juice boxes—the color returning to his cheeks, the bags fading from under his eyes, the unfocused squint and furrowed brow smoothing. I watched in fascination as the splits across my knuckles healed and the bruises over my palms faded, though the itch of it still made me squirm. “It was <em>not </em>th’ best part o’ yeh,” Cass spat, so sudden and emphatic that it made me jump, and when I scoffed he glared severely. “Not by a long shot.”</p><p>“The most useful part then,” I mumbled sulkily, and his frown deepened.</p><p>“Yeh were human when yeh healed me all up from th’ sun back in Annville. An’ human when yeh followed me into the Tombs an’ tried yer damnedest t’ kill Jess. <em>An’ </em>when yeh found me down in th’ cells here, yeh were human then.” He snorted suddenly, his eyes crinkling with a smile. “Human when yeh tried t’ fight God, fer Chrissake. So don’ go tellin’ me, Juniper Guidry, that wit’out bein’ a werewolf yeh’re not useful.” My face warmed as he spoke, and when he’d finished I grabbed his hand, pressing his cool palm to my flaming cheek.</p><p>“<em>Cassidy</em>,” I said, and he blinked, seeming taken aback at my stern tone.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Juniper <em>Cassidy</em>,” I corrected him, and when he smiled radiantly I wondered how I ever could have worried about missing the sun. He ducked his head, suddenly bashful, spinning the lid from one of the empty bottles across the stone floor like a top.</p><p>“So yeh still wanna make it official, d’yeh?” he asked, carefully nonchalant. “Even wit’ what…what I did t’ yeh?” He caught my eye for a moment before turning his gaze back down to the floor, and I leaned into his shoulder reassuringly. “An’ wit’ me slippin’? I can’t promise yeh it’ll never happen again, y’know. Not th’ healthiest wit’ copin’ mechanisms, me.”</p><p>I entwined the fingers of my left hand with his and he turned our clasped palms this way and that so my ring shone in the light. “That’s hardly news to me,” I chided gently, and he snorted. “And you promised a big wedding if we survived.”</p><p>“Did yeh <em>technically </em>survive, though?” he asked, his eyes mischievous. “I t’ink we may have a loophole situation on our hands, yeh know.”</p><p>“Thanks to you,” I murmured, and he kissed my temple lightly before he let his head <em>thunk </em>against the stone wall behind us.</p><p>“Jaysis, tellin’ yer family is gonna make fightin’ God feel like a walk in th’ park,” he said weakly, and I wrinkled my nose.</p><p>“The vampire part, or the engagement part?” I teased, and he groaned. “Maybe we <em>should </em>elope.”</p><p>He shook his head, suddenly serious. “I want t’ tell ‘em. Ask yer Da fer permission, an’ all that. I know it’s old fashioned, an’ silly an’ patriarchal.” he rushed on, his cheeks flushing faintly, and I squeezed his hand. “It’s jes’, not a lot of my life has been what I expected, d’yeh know what I mean? Wit’ this, I c’n sorta…pretend that it went th’ way it was meant to. Fer a day, at least.” He searched my face, uncharacteristically apprehensive. “Is that alright?”</p><p>I brought his hand to my mouth, brushing a kiss across each of his knuckles. “I like old fashioned,” I assured him, and he smiled down at his lap. “But if Daddy says no, then we elope.”</p><p>“Done,” he agreed, and we shook. “S’long as yer Da don’ kill me first.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! I'm looking forward to revisiting Juniper's family, and I hope you are too...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0077"><h2>77. Guess Who's Coming to Dinner</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper and Cassidy visit Juniper's family to share the good news.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The roar of the jeep’s engine must have announced our presence long before our arrival, because when the headlights splashed across the front of my parents’ house my family was outside, their eyes glued to the driveway. Daddy and Cypress stood identically stone-faced, arms crossed and brows furrowed, Mama had her hands pressed to her cheeks, her smile wide despite her wetly gleaming eyes, Clay was grinning, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Rowan and Ash, so different in appearance, now looked oddly similar; they’d bobbed up onto their toes and wore twin mischievous smiles, seeming a hair away from running to meet us.</p><p>Cassidy cut the engine, and in the abrupt silence I heard his rough swallow. His leg bounced so rapidly that the entire car shook beneath us, and when I took his hand it was clammy and cold.</p><p>“Are yeh alright?” he asked me softly, searching my face, and I pursed my lips—was I? I glanced at the house and the woods behind it where I’d spent so much of my life on four paws, and swallowed the loss that wanted to overwhelm me. But seeing my family there in the flesh, eagerly awaiting my arrival, the fear that they’d reject me faded away—mostly.</p><p>“I’m okay,” I said, and squeezed his sweaty hand gently. “Are <em>you?</em>” I couldn’t remember seeing him so unsettled; his eyes fell on Daddy and his throat bobbed as he gulped again.</p><p>“Tell yeh th’ trut’, <em>mo gréine</em>, I may well piss meself.” I snorted a laugh, and his betrayed expression only made me giggle harder. “That’s how it is, is it? When yer Da puts me in cinderblock shoes an’ sinks me in th’ swamp fer gator bait you jes’ remember, I toldja I was scared an’ yeh <em>laughed!</em>” I caught the finger he was waggling in my face and kissed its tip lightly.    </p><p>“He would never hurt you. In front of witnesses,” I added cheekily. When he paled I brought our clasped hands to my cheek—mine looked naked without my ring, but Cass had requested, in the interest of peacekeeping and self preservation, that we omit the fact that he’d already proposed until permission was granted. “It’ll be alright, Proinsias. They’ll learn to love you, just like I did.”</p><p>The corner of his mouth twitched upward, his eyes sparkling in the low light. “Hopefully not <em>jes’ </em>like you do,” he said, and I swatted him, my nose wrinkled.</p><p>“You’re <em>gross,</em>” I said, and his quiet laughter followed me from the jeep.</p><p>The cold January mud sucked at my feet, trying to steal my shoes, but in spite of it I was running by the time I reached them, and when Mama’s arms folded around me my eyes stung and my throat ached.</p><p>“Oh, Junie,” she sighed. “Let me look at you. How was the drive?”  </p><p>Before I could pull back to arms’ length I was surrounded; brothers on every side hugging me so tightly my feet left the ground and I wriggled and laughed. I caught the scent of them then, wild and hearty and strong, and the pang of hunger that surged through me made me ill with shame.</p><p>“You throw yourself out any windows lately?” Ash teased, drawing me back to myself.</p><p>“Or get hacked with a chainsaw?” Clay added.</p><p>“Or blow up a small town?” Rowan poked me in the ribs, prompting an undignified squeak.</p><p>“Listen, I was not <em>personally</em> responsible for Annville!” I protested. “And no and no. The drive was fine, Mama, just <em>long</em>.” I couldn’t begrudge it, though—Cassidy had enough wild stories and random facts and conspiracy theories to fill a lifetime of road trips.  </p><p>“Alright, let her breathe.” Daddy’s stern voice cut across their greetings, and the boys backed away obediently. I lowered my eyes as he approached, wincing against his expected reprimand, but he only cupped my cheek gently, and when I looked up into his face his expression was soft. “It’s good to have you home, Juniper,” he rumbled, and my eyes grew wet again as he wrapped his arms around me, though over his shoulder I could see Cypress, unmoved, his expression still cold. His eyes flicked from me to Cassidy, striding stoically across the lawn like a man on his way to the gallows with our bag slung over his shoulder, and his face darkened.  </p><p>“Cass!” Rowan met him halfway; when he clapped Cass on the shoulder I could hear the impact of it across the yard. “It’s good to see you, man.”</p><p>“Hey up, Rowan,” Cass said, grinning gratefully. “Good t’ see you too, mate.” His smile faded as he peeked around Ro’s broad body to greet my parents. “Mr. Guidry. Missus Guidry. Thanks fer havin’ me.”</p><p>“It’s literally the only way Juniper would agree to come home,” Cypress snapped, and Mama shushed him.</p><p>“Now, Mr. Cassidy—”</p><p>“Oh, jes’ Cassidy’s fine there, Missus Guidry,” he interrupted, and Daddy’s jaw clenched.</p><p>“Cassidy,” Mama corrected herself, her smile only slightly strained. “We’re doing homemade pizza for dinner, but I’ve made sure there’s no garlic in the sauce, I don’t want you to worry.”</p><p>“Oh, tha’s not—” he began, but seemed to think better of it; the smile that crossed his face was boyish, nearly shy. “That’s very kind o’ yeh, Missus Guidry.”</p><p>She flapped her hands at him, a blush rising in her cheeks. “Just Hazel, please,” she said, and Rowan and I exchanged smug grins. “Come on inside out of the cold, we’ve made up Junie’s room for you. And <em>you all</em>,” she added, shooing my brothers toward the door like errant ducklings. “Get to the kitchen and get to slicing.”</p><p>We filed inside obediently, kicking our shoes off into a heap in the entryway, and I led Cassidy down the hall to my room. Someone had nailed a blanket over the window in preparation for our visit, and I rubbed the thin material between my fingers, smiling wistfully. I turned as Cass closed the door behind him and tossed our bag to the bed.</p><p>“Well, I wasn’ murdered on sight, anyway,” he said, and I scoffed.</p><p>“They like you!” I insisted, and flushed at his raised eyebrows. “Mama and Rowan <em>and</em> Ash like you. Three out of six!” I wrapped my arms around his waist and he leaned into my heavily, his chin resting on my head, sighing as I rubbed slow, soothing circles over his back. “Is this your first time meeting someone’s family?” I asked abruptly, and felt him shrug.</p><p>“Nah, I’ve done it before, jes’…not in a very long time,” he said. “An’ never wit’ someone I wanted t’ marry.” A pleasant thrill shot through me with the words, and I squeezed him closer.</p><p>“Well, we’re getting married regardless of what happens,” I murmured. “But they <em>will </em>like you.”</p><p>“We’ll see,” he muttered darkly, and when he pulled away gently I sat cross-legged on the bed, watching him explore my room. It was strange, having him there, almost surreal—as if time had folded over on itself somehow, smooshing together two parts of my life that had always been clearly demarcated in my head. His fingers traced the edges of the photos pinned to my corkboard—he demanded the story behind each one, and I was happy to be the one telling <em>him </em>tales for once. He smirked over my bookshelf—my brothers had developed an aggravating habit of gifting me supernatural romance novels, the trashier the better, and to my horror and shame, I loved reading them. He touched each of the spines, his smile growing as he explored the collection; <em>Twilight, Shifters, Blood and Chocolate, Bitten…</em>he laughed softly and I ducked my head, my cheeks warming. When I glanced up again he held the small, nearly perfect resin sphere that contained my puppy teeth and juniper needles, turning it gently between his fingers. After a moment’s contemplation he replaced it on the dresser and joined me on the bed, bouncing lightly.</p><p>“’S like gettin’ a peek into yer head,” he said, kissing my temple lightly, and I took his hand.</p><p>“I wish I could have seen yours,” I murmured; my heart panged over the impossibility of it, the fact that he could never return this small intimacy, and he startled me by chuckling.</p><p>“I din’t have a room t’ see, <em>mo gréine</em>,” he said, and I blinked, trying to cover my surprise. “T’ough once I started workin’ I saved up a bit o’ money an’ got me own bed, that was nice. An’ bein’ oldest, I got th’ window.” My eyes were wide as I watched his face, hungry as always for any detail he was willing to share. He laughed again at my fascination, and gently tugged his hand away so he could map out his childhood home for me, drawing it in the air. “Our house was…oh, maybe jes’ about th’ size of our livin’ room at home, or a  bit larger. Stone walls an’ a thatched roof. Fireplace in right about th’ same spot, an’ table beside it. My bed, when I got one, was here—” He prodded the air almost opposite the imaginary fireplace. “Beds all along this wall, an’ blankets hung fer a bit o’ privacy. Shelves an’ pantry over here.” Across from the table, I thought—it was hard to keep track. He cleared his throat abruptly, his hands dropping back to his lap. “Damn near impossible fer a man t’ rub one out in peace, d’yeh know what I mean?” he added, and I wrinkled my nose.</p><p>A rough thump at the door made us both jump. “Come <em>on </em>already!” Ash.</p><p>“Bet yeh never t’ought o’ havin’ a bedroom door as bein’ a luxury, eh?” Cass teased, and I laughed as I stood and pulled him with me.</p><p>The kitchen was filled with the muted click of chopping knives; Rowan was grating cheese into what looked like a punch bowl and Mama was expertly spreading pizza dough across several cookie sheets. I snatched a pair of bright red bell peppers and a cutting board and began slicing while Cassidy watched, looking adrift.</p><p>“Is t’ere anyt’in’ I c’n do t’ help, Missus—Hazel,” he corrected himself, and I smiled down at my cutting board to hear it. “Set th’ table, maybe?”</p><p>“That would be wonderful, Cassidy, thank you.” She showed him to the plates and cutlery, and he busied himself ferrying fistfuls of utensils back and forth. “I’m so glad you could both get the time off to come see us,” she said, her eyes growing misty again as she watched me work, shoulder to shoulder with Rowan.</p><p>“What is it you’re doing again, Cassidy?” Daddy asked, though I was sure he knew.</p><p>“Bartendin’…sir,” Cass added after an uncertain moment. Daddy grunted, unimpressed, and I frowned indignantly.</p><p>“Cass is <em>magic </em>behind the bar, I’ve never seen anything like it,” I said, shooting him an encouraging smile.</p><p>“Well, yeh’ve only ever been t’ two other bars in yer life, <em>mo gréine</em>,” he teased, but a faint flush had colored his cheeks at the compliment.</p><p>“Magic how?” Clay asked, and after a moment’s hesitation Cassidy grabbed two of the glasses from the table and sent them spinning through the air in high, perfect arcs that made Mama gasp and eyebrows rise through the kitchen. He only kept at it for a moment before he clunked one glass down on the table and caught the other balanced neatly on his forehead, a triumphant grin stretching his cheeks.</p><p>“Where did you learn that?” Mama asked, charmed.</p><p>“Oh, yeh know, here an’ there. One o’ th’ perks o’ bein’ like me, lots o’ free time t’ learn useless shi—stuff.” He tipped his head forward to let the glass fall lightly to his hand before returning it to its place and resumed his task, seemingly oblivious of the thick silence that followed his casual reference to being a vampire.</p><p>“So are you like, a thousand years old or something?” Ash blurted, and Cassidy’s fingers stuttered as he reached for the plates.</p><p>“…Not yet, no,” he said, and hurried back to the table to lay them out. “T’ough I did know a bloke, once, claimed t’ be t’ree hunnert an’ fifty.”</p><p>“How old are you, then?” Cypress asked, raising his chin stubbornly, and Mama’s hands stilled over the pizza dough. Cass turned to me, his eyes wide, and I turned a glare on Cypress.</p><p>“He’s a hundred and twenty,” I said evenly, and the sounds of chopping and grating faded away as every pair of eyes fell on Cassidy; Clay loosed a low whistle, and Daddy and Cypress exchanged dark looks.</p><p>“…You look good, dude,” Ash muttered after a moment, flushing, and turned back to his task.</p><p>“Rowan!” Mama chirped, “How are you and Ada settling into your new apartment?”</p><p>“It’s good, Mama,” Rowan replied, catching on quickly. “The neighbors are mostly quiet, and all of them seem pretty nice. They have a no dogs rule, though, so I’ll have to come home for the full moons. She had work tonight,” he added to Cass and I, “but she says hi, and wants to see you while you’re home…”</p><p>When the pizzas were loaded with toppings and baking we gathered at the table, sipping cold beers straight from the bottles. Cassidy groped for my hand under the table, and I entwined our fingers, stroking his thumb reassuringly.</p><p>“So, Juniper. What have you been up to?” Daddy asked, the faintest of smiles emphasizing the crow’s feet around his eyes. “No new scars, I’ve noticed.”</p><p>“Well…” Inspiration struck, and I grinned at Cass. “Cassidy’s a way better storyteller than me. You tell it,” I urged, and blinked to hide my flinch as his hand clamped painfully over mine. “<em>Please?</em>”</p><p>He sighed softly and finished his beer, though when I stood to grab him another he clung still tighter to my hand, only relaxing his hold when I settled back into my seat. His retelling of our brief stay with Eccarius began with waking up on the Rosen’s basement floor—though he was vague on how he’d ended up unconscious there in the first place.</p><p>“My God, yeh shoulda seen the fella, straight <em>Interview Wit’ th’ Vampire</em> bullshit—‘scuse my language, Hazel—” Here he smiled bashfully at Mama, who waved away the apology. “Wit’ th’ funny twangy piano playin’ in th’ background an’ everyt’in’. An’ it turned out, yeh know, this guy was th’ real deal. Flyin’ an’ transmutation an’ hypnotizin’ folks an’ everyt’in’, d’yeh know what I mean?”</p><p>His vivid imagery and fluttering hands bewitched my family as though he, too, had the power to hypnotize; even Daddy and Cypress leaned forward, fascinated in spite of themselves. He was magnificent, editing on the fly so seamlessly that it left me puzzled, near to questioning my own memory. He left out the brief romance that still ached like a bad knee before rain, and when he reached Eccarius’ betrayal he omitted my being compelled; I leaned hard into his shoulder in silent apology, and he brushed his cheek against my hair, a quiet reassurance.   </p><p>We all jumped as the oven timer went off, rudely breaking Cassidy’s spell. When we all had full plates and fresh beers, every face at the table turned to Cassidy expectantly, but he’d reached the point where our paths diverged, and he looked over at me.</p><p>“They don’ wanna hear about me sittin’ in a pit, <em>mo gréine</em>, they wanna hear about you.” He took a sip of his beer and leaned back in his chair, and I felt heat creeping into my cheeks as their eyes turned to me.</p><p>“Well, they’d—the Grail, I mean—they shot me up with something, so I couldn’t move. So they took Cass, and it was just me for a bit, until Tulip got there.”</p><p>“Tulip who came back from the dead?” Rowan remembered, and I nodded, grinning at the puzzled faces around the table.</p><p>“That’s the one,” I said. “She found me there, and slapped me awake and hauled me up to the car, and we went to pick up Jesse—”</p><p>Daddy’s beer froze on its path to his mouth and then thumped loudly back to the table. “I know you don’t mean Jesse L’Angelle.”</p><p>“Well, Jess an’ Tulip, see, they’re sort of a paired set—” Cass began, but Daddy silenced him with a cold look and he filled his mouth with a huge bite of pizza, lowering his eyes to his plate.</p><p>“We hoped he burned to death with <em>Madame L’Angelle</em>.” Cypress spat the name, disdain curling his lip.</p><p>“Well…Jesse’s the one who killed her,” I said, my voice tentative. “Her and Jody and TC. And he’s the one who burned down Angelville.” When Daddy didn’t interrupt again I plowed on, emboldened. “And his name’s Jesse <em>Custer</em>.” <em>That</em> earned a glare that made me swallow and shrink in my seat, but he let me continue.</p><p>The pizza was long gone by the time I’d summarized the failed attempts at breaching Masada and Cassidy’s escape with the Archangel—indignant at my family’s disbelief. When I reached our arrival in Washington, Mama stood to clear the table, and I joined her automatically.</p><p>“You never used to get into this much trouble, Junie,” she sighed, and Rowan snorted.</p><p>“You’re misremembering, Ma,” he said, and I flicked the back of his head as I passed.</p><p>“Now, t’ be fair, in this particular instance The Grail’s th’ ones that caused th’ trouble, an’ yer daughter’s jes’ too damned stubborn t’ leave well enough alone,” Cass said, and when he grinned at me I stuck my tongue out at him.</p><p>“Gets it from her mother,” Daddy muttered, one corner of his mouth curling into a smile, and Cass sat a little straighter in his chair.</p><p>“Things have been alright since then, though?” Mama asked anxiously. “Get the dessert plates, Juniper,” she added, and as she sliced and served huge slices of apple pie I scooped generous dollops of vanilla ice cream over them. At the idea of sharing the rest of what we’re been through I felt myself shrinking inside my skin, anxiety chilling me from head to toe, and leaned into Mama’s side.</p><p>“It was for a bit,” I said, and told them about settling in Anacortes; how Cassidy had seemed to snatch a job from thin air like magic and found us a home to fix up together. When I stumbled over the night of his proposal Cass took over smoothly, turning the most romantic moment of my life into a comedic yarn about the trials of normal dates as a vampire, and I found his hand under the table and squeezed it warmly. </p><p>Cypress and Daddy wore identical scowls when Jesse showed up again, but this time they didn’t interrupt, and I was grateful. Our retelling had become stilted and frayed, threads of it pulling free or abruptly cutting off as we edged into the raw, the painful, the downright impossible. When I reached Cassidy’s dismemberment the words stuck, like barbed hooks in my throat, but I bulled onward stubbornly—they had to know, had to understand how desperate things had been, for Cass to do what he did. Finally the words lodged where they were and wouldn’t come, and when I saw tears in Mama’s eyes my own welled up in response. I ducked my head as Cass took my hand on the table between both of his.</p><p>“An’ d’yeh know yer daughter attacked God Himself? Fer th’ likes o’ me, she tried t’ fight the Lord Almighty. Never seen anyt’in’ like it in my life, an’ that’s sayin’ somethin’,” he said; his voice was tender, and his eyes never left my face. The room was silent for a long moment, punctuated by sniffles from Mama and I.</p><p>“Did she win?” Ash asked, and the shocked laugh that was pulled from my throat freed my words again. My shoulder ached as I told them about waking up alone in the hall, about finding my long and painful way to Cassidy and Tulip and Humperdoo and breaking into the room. About how there was no way out but to kill Humperdoo, and no one to do it but me. Cassidy’s grip over my hand grew tighter as I spoke, his gentle smile giving way to a clenched jaw and thinned lips, and I rested my free hand over his.</p><p>“So Tulip, she…she wanted to rescue Hump, not kill him. And she saw me go at him and she shot me,” I whispered, and shoulders rolled and growls sounded around the table. “It wasn’t her fault! I understand why she did it. But there was no other way but to kill him. So I kept going, and she shot me again.” Mama sobbed softly, and Rowan’s chair skittered back as he stood abruptly, his expression stormy. “But that’s not the point, listen! Sit <em>down</em>, Ro, please.” He eased slowly back to his seat, but I’d lost my words again and bowed my head.</p><p>“She was dyin’,” Cass said softly. “It was horrible.” He shifted suddenly, facing Daddy. “Yeh’ve gotta believe me, mate, when I say I wouldna done what I did if there was any other way. Any other way at all.”</p><p>The only sound in the house was the steady low whine of the fridge as they stared at us. One by one their faces shifted as they understood—shock, dull comprehension, sadness, fury—and Daddy.</p><p>“What did you do?” he growled, and the low rumble of it was scarier than a shout.</p><p>“He saved me, Daddy,” I managed. “It was the only way he could.”</p><p>“Lissen, I don’ want this fer her, any more’n you do, but Christ man, I couldn’ let her go, not when there was a way—” Cassidy’s appeal cut off as Daddy and Cypress slammed out the door without a word; a moment later I could see their silhouettes as they raced for the trees. Cass sank in his seat again, head low and expression grimly resigned.</p><p>Mama sighed heavily, and stood to follow. “They’ll need talking down, when they’re ready.” She paused as she rounded the table and rested her hand on Cassidy’s shoulder, squeezing gently; he rested his head against her forearm, seeming to take reassurance from her. “If…if it was really the only way to save her, then…thank you.” He sighed deeply, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment before she pulled away to follow after Daddy and Cypress. I pressed against Cassidy’s side as I waited for more questions and Rowan, Clay, and Ash pretended not to stare.</p><p>“Are you really a…” Clay hesitated, glancing at Cass as though afraid he’d offend.</p><p>“Vampire, mate, it’s alright,” he said tiredly, and I nodded. I could extend my fangs consciously now—the bright flare of pain as they burst through my gums always eclipsed by the raw pang of hunger that accompanied them. I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing deeply until the thirst subsided, and then my brothers gaped as I pushed my lip out of the way.</p><p>“But what does that <em>mean</em>, exactly?” Ash asked, oddly forlorn. “We know that the werewolf stuff is mostly bullshit, so…?”</p><p>“It means, um…I won’t age. And no sunshine,” I said, starting with the easiest. “And I have to drink blood, sometimes,” I added, flushing when their stares sharpened. “But we only drink the blood bags for transfusions! Or animals. We don’t hurt people,” I explained quickly, and as one they relaxed back into their chairs—it wasn’t so far off, really, from hunting deer or gators. “And it means…” I cleared my throat and ground the heel of my palm into my tearing eyes. “And, um, Cass didn’t know this when he did it, but it means I can’t shift anymore.”</p><p>The grain of the table blurred as I stared down at it; I couldn’t bear to look at my brothers. I heard the scraping of chairs and I was surrounded for the second time that evening, though this time they were somber rather than rowdy as they hugged me so tightly it felt they were trying to fix my shattered pieces by sheer force.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Cassidy whispered hollowly from outside the wall of bodies, and without hesitation Rowan opened the hug to scoop him into it, ignoring Clay’s surprised glance.</p><p>When the tears came again, they were of relief.</p><p>~~~~</p><p>“Clay likes you. That’s four out of six,” I murmured when I’d settled against Cassidy with my head on his chest. “Two thirds.”</p><p>“Hm,” he grunted, unconvinced. “But yer Da, an’ Cypress, the way they left…”</p><p>The two of them, and Mama, had still been gone when we’d given up waiting and come to bed, and I worked to hide the worry that wormed through my stomach.</p><p>“We just need to do that sometimes. Remember when I disappeared into the Cascades?” I added, tapping his chest lightly. “It helps with…processing, I guess.”</p><p>“They bin processin’ fer hours, though,” he said, glancing at the blanket-covered window.</p><p>“Processing is <em>good</em>. It means they made the conscious choice to leave the house instead of killing you right then and there,” I assured him, only half joking. “If they’re not back in the morning, then we’ll worry.” That seemed to settle him, and he turned to brush his lips over my forehead.</p><p>“Yer Ma reminds me o’ me Granny B, yeh know. All soft on the outside an’ steely tough down th’ center.” His eyes dampened as he spoke, and I pressed closer.</p><p>“They could have bonded over how difficult we were as kids,” I teased gently, and he glared, feigning offense.</p><p>“Hey, now, I was a good lad once—”</p><p>“Only the one time? In twelve decades?” I cut in, and his snorted laugh shook the bed. “I love you, Proinsias Cassidy.”</p><p>He hummed happily, brushing the tip of his nose over my hair. “An’ I love you, Juniper Guidry.”</p><p>The steady rise and fall of his chest and the gentle tracing of his fingers up and down my arm lulled me, and I was close to dozing when he spoke again, under his breath.</p><p>“That’s one down,” he muttered, but before I could ask if he meant the words for me, I was asleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you as always for reading! I really loved revisiting Juniper's family and exploring their personalities more. Comments are appreciated!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0078"><h2>78. Helpless</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper and Cassidy have the second of two difficult conversations with her parents.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The bedroom was still dim when I woke, though quiet murmuring like a radio playing underwater was audible through the walls, and a strip of golden light was visible under the door. After a moment I understood—remembered the blanket that had been draped over the window to protect Cassidy and I from the morning sun.</p><p><em>Cass</em>. I sighed happily as I wriggled closer to his chest, and his arms tightened around me reflexively, though there was no break in the rhythm of his snores. I let my eyes drift closed again as I went over the night before; it had gone better than I had hoped, right up until the end. I curled in on myself as I remembered the way Daddy and Cypress had stormed out, and Cassidy nuzzled at the back of my neck. Slowly, so as not to wake him, I eased out of the warm circle of his arms to dress in the dark.</p><p>I squinted against the brightness and the <em>wrongness </em>of the light in the hall—I was sure it was morning, but the light was garish and artificial. My throat ached as I realized why; every set of blinds in the house, every curtain, had been carefully pulled and closed to seal out the sun. For us. For me.  </p><p>The floor creaked underfoot, and the voices in the other room halted. I could see Mama and Daddy in my mind’s eye, their heads tilted as they listened for my steps. But when I tried to picture Daddy’s face, whether it would hold anger or sadness or resentment, I couldn’t see anything. Anxious nausea brought a sickly sour taste to the back of my throat at the thought of facing them, of telling them what I was—or rather what I wasn’t anymore. But when I reached the kitchen and Mama’s face crumpled, I knew.</p><p>“Who told you?” I wanted to be annoyed, but there was only dull relief. Daddy’s eyes stayed on his hands, gently tented over the grain of the table, but Mama rushed to pull me into her arms. I stiffened, determined not to let them know how much the loss had hurt.</p><p>“I did.” Ash’s voice came from behind me, and when I turned to look at him he lowered his head. “I didn’t think you’d wanna talk about it any more.” He hesitated, the muscles of his jaw working, before he met my eyes. “Junie, we’re still twins, right?”</p><p>His lonesome expression the night before suddenly made sense, and I tackled him in a tight hug. “Of course we’re still twins, stupid!”</p><p>“Well, I didn’t know! Things are gonna be so different.” Another spasm of pain rocked me, sudden and deep as a charley horse, and I squeezed him tighter before I pulled away.</p><p>“The only thing that’s different with us is I’m going to be the better looking one <em>forever,</em>” I teased, and he managed a smile. We joined Daddy at the table, and he finally raised his eyes—red and darkly bagged from his night in the woods.</p><p>“Do <em>you </em>believe it was the only way?” he asked, echoing Cassidy’s claim from the night before. I shuddered as I recalled the impact of Tulip’s bullets, the bright shock of pain and the creeping, icy numbness as I bled out, the terrifying sensation of the strength flowing out of my limbs, leaving me too weak to even crawl.</p><p>“Yes,” I whispered, and Daddy nodded slowly; his fists clenched hard for a moment, then slowly straightened until his hands lay flat on the table.</p><p>“I guess I can’t fault him for that, then,” he said gruffly, and I relaxed into my chair as I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Mama set a steaming cup in front of me, and I wrapped my hands around it, grateful for its warmth.</p><p>“Are you okay, Junie?” Mama asked earnestly, taking the chair next to Daddy, and I stared into my coffee mug, trying to sort my feelings into words.</p><p>“I’m okay. It’s been hard, but it’s getting easier.” I couldn’t say more—things <em>were</em> getting easier, but when I faced it head on, I still felt like a tiny rowboat trying desperately to stay afloat on an ocean of grief. “And I get to see the moon now,” I added with a tiny smile; when Mama took my hand in hers I felt tears pricking my eyes and took a deep swig of coffee, hiding behind the cup’s rim.</p><p>Our heads tilted in unison as my bedroom door clicked open and Cassidy poked his head out cautiously. I extended a hand to him and he ambled toward me with a smile, but his feet stuttered to a halt when he saw Daddy at the table.</p><p>“Good morning, Cassidy,” Daddy said evenly, as though nothing odd had occurred the night before, and Cass seemed to relax.</p><p>“Mornin’, Mr. Guidry. Hazel,” he added warmly, and Mama returned his smile, standing to bustle over to the stove as Cass joined us at the table. “Hey, Ash.”</p><p>“Do you like tea, Cassidy?” Mama asked, already putting a kettle on. “I made sure to pick up some Irish breakfast tea, just in case.”</p><p>“Assuming he’ll like Irish tea just ‘cause he’s Irish is <em>racist</em>, Ma,” Ash teased, and I snorted.</p><p>“Ah, let yer Ma alone,” Cass said, reaching around me to swat Ash’s shoulder lightly, and I ducked my head to hide my grin. “Tea sounds like jes’ th’ t’ing Hazel, thanks.” When she’d brought it and sat again he added a generous splash of milk and with the first swallow he closed his eyes for a moment, savoring it while Mama beamed. We nursed our mugs in silence for a while, until Mama shot Daddy a stern look, turning her eyes from him to Cassidy and back again.</p><p>He cleared his throat abruptly, drawing all eyes. “Thank you,” he said, meeting Cassidy’s gaze, “for saving our daughter.”</p><p>Cass rested his hand over mine, a slight flush tinting his cheeks. “Ah, well. She’s saved me plenny o’ times, it was past time t’ return the favor,” he said, and I whipped my head around to squint at him.</p><p>“Sorry, I’ve done <em>what</em> plenty of times?” I asked, a triumphant smirk curling my lips, and his brow furrowed stubbornly.</p><p>“I’m not sayin’ it again,” he said firmly, but the sly grin he shot me and the way he gently squeezed my hand was enough.    </p><p>The front door slammed open then, and I scrambled to my feet as familiar ringing laughter filled the room. I met them in the entryway—Ada hung giggling from Rowan’s neck, her toes several inches above the ground as he tromped toward the kitchen as though he carried nothing more than an unwieldy backpack.</p><p>“Juniper!” She let herself drop and caught me in a hug, surprising me with her enthusiasm. Her scent was odd; somehow food and not-food at the same time—like a candle that <em>almost </em>perfectly imitates the smell of sugar cookies. “It’s so good to see you!”</p><p>“It’s good to see you too,” I said, and gave her another tight squeeze before I let her go.</p><p>“So yeh’re th’ one helped break Juniper out, eh?” Cass had joined us, leaning one shoulder against the wall.</p><p>Ada drew herself up to her full but thoroughly unimpressive height, full of fake outrage, and Cassidy grinned down at her. “<em>Helped!</em> I drove four hours in the middle of the <em>night!</em> All Rowan and Ash had to do was run around in the woods for a minute!”</p><p>“We couldn’t have done it without you, Adelaide,” Rowan assured her, kissing the top of her head, and she <em>hmph</em>-ed, still eyeing Cassidy.</p><p>“It’s good t’ meetcha, finally. This idjit never shuts up about yeh, didja know that?” He smirked over her head at Rowan, who glared.</p><p>“You’re one to talk,” he said, and put on a horrendous mockery of Cassidy’s accent. “<em>Ohh, in a hunnert years I never met anyone like yer sister, an’ now I’ve prob’ly gone an’ bollocksed it all up…</em>”</p><p>“Have you considered that you’re <em>both </em>pathetic?” Ash called from the kitchen as Clay shouldered the front door open, and he hesitated, confused.</p><p>“Who’s pathetic?” he asked, blinking.</p><p>“Our boyfriends,” Ada said, and linked her arm with mine to lead me back to the kitchen without further explanation.</p><p>We filled our mugs again and herded to sprawl in the living room—Clay in the recliner, Daddy and Mama on the loveseat, Rowan, Cass, Ada and me crowded onto the couch and Ash good-naturedly taking a spot on the floor. I perched on the arm of the sofa next to Cassidy, my feet tucked under his thigh, a warm thrill rushing through me and a cocky grin stretching my lips every time my eyes swept over them all, growing more comfortable and casual by the minute. We spent the long, lazy morning there, getting caught up on what each of my brothers had been up to since my grand escape—except one. We carefully skirted around Cypress’ conspicuous absence, until I’d been filled in on everyone’s goings-on and the conversation trickled to a halt.</p><p>“Where’s Cy?” I asked softly, and Mama and Daddy exchanged a heavy glance.</p><p>“Cypress decided not to come back today,” Mama said, and her voice was soft and apologetic when she added; “or until you’ve gone home.” I nodded, unsurprised, but a dull ache still filled my chest, and Cass squeezed my knee gently.</p><p>“I’m sorry, <em>mo gréine</em>,” he murmured; he seemed to shrink as I watched, placing the blame squarely on his own shoulders, and I covered his hand with mine.</p><p>“Moron,” Clay muttered, and Mama <em>tsk</em>-ed half-heartedly. “He’ll come around Junie, don’t worry about it.”</p><p>“Yeah,” I said with a forced smile. “Thanks, Clay.” I glanced into my cup, considering, but my stomach churned uneasily and I set it aside. “What’s the plan for today?”  </p><p>“Well, we <em>were </em>gonna see if you wanted to take the fanboat out,” Rowan said with a glance at the tightly closed blinds. “But is that…something you can do?”</p><p>I followed his gaze, considering; had I packed gloves? Or a hooded jacket? I still had the sunglasses Tulip had loaned me, and I’d brought an umbrella, but the way Rowan drove on the water it would be yanked from my hands and lost forever, no doubt.</p><p>“We <em>could</em>, but it’s easier not to,” I said finally, and the pang of loss was compounded by the disappointment that crossed their faces. “But my night vision is good enough we could go again tonight, if you want,” I added hopefully, and Rowan nodded.</p><p>“Would you die?” Ash asked quietly, and Daddy glared murderously. I flexed my hand as I recalled the agonizing pain of the sun, like pressing my skin to a hot iron. My mind went back further, to Cassidy’s condition after stepping into the sun in Annville, the agonizing screams of Dennis’ last moments.</p><p>“Yes,” I replied simply, and Cass stared down at his lap; when his hands started twisting together guiltily I plucked one up, holding it gently in both of mine. “We <em>can </em>go out during the day, but we have to bundle up so the sun can’t touch us. Scarves and gloves and umbrellas and stuff. So we don’t, usually, unless we have to.”</p><p>A low chuckle came from Rowan, and now both Mama and Daddy glared at him, and my mouth dropped open in shock and hurt, but he couldn’t seem to stop.</p><p>“Beekeeper suit,” he finally managed, and one by one our faces split into grins, until even Daddy was smiling.</p><p>“Don’t t’ink I haven’t considered it, mate,” Cassidy said, and at the thought of us walking arm-in-arm down the streets of Anacortes in the bulky white suits I couldn’t help but laugh.</p><p>“So what do you want to do then?” Clay asked, and I shrugged.</p><p>“You guys go boating, if you want to go boating. We’ll still <em>bee </em>here when you get back,” I said with a smirk, and was met with a chorus of groans. “And then we can go again later, after dinner maybe?”</p><p>“Alright…” Rowan rose slowly, seeming hesitant. “If you’re sure?”</p><p>“I’m sure. Get outta here.” I waved them away, feigning impatience, and they shuffled toward the door, trying to hide their eagerness.</p><p>“Be <em>careful, </em>Rowan,” Mama warned, and he flapped a hand at her.</p><p>“Always am, Ma.” The screen door slapped closed behind them a moment later, followed by the thunderous roar of the boat’s engine.</p><p>When the noise of the motor had faded away I caught Cassidy’s eye, glancing pointedly to Mama and Daddy and back again.</p><p>He took a deep breath, bracing himself, and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Mama’s smile faded, her face growing curious, and Daddy’s head tilted slightly, his eyes searching. “Lissen, t’ere’s somethin’ I need t’…t’ ask you two, it’s sorta why we came t’ visit yeh, see, an’ I know we don’ know each other too well, an’ firs’ impressions weren’t all that great, but Christ do I love yer daughter, an’ fer some reason she loves me too, though I couldn’ tell yeh why—” I squeezed his shoulder gently, stilling him, and he brushed his cheek against my hand gratefully. He took another deep inhale, though by Mama’s widened eyes and Daddy’s raised eyebrows, they’d guessed what was coming. “What I’m gettin’ at is, I’d very much like t’ marry Juniper, an’ I’d like yer blessin’ over it.”</p><p>Mama’s hands rose slowly to her cheeks as though floating of their own accord; a slow smile like a sunrise bloomed over her face as her eyes welled, and my eyes stung with tears in automatic response.</p><p>“Does he make you happy, Junie?” she asked, and I nodded wordlessly, tugging Cassidy’s hand to press against my burning cheek.</p><p>“I love him,” I said softly, and Cass beamed up at me; the crooked smile that filled me with butterflies every time.</p><p>“Then of course you have our blessing!” She swept across the room to scoop us both into a hug and I pressed my face against her shoulder, squeezing hard. With one arm around her and the other around Cassidy, I felt it when he blew a gusty sigh of relief.</p><p>He hesitated as she pulled away, as though afraid his words might break a spell. “I t’ought…I got th’ impression yeh didn’ like me much, las’ time I was here.”</p><p>Mama pursed her lips, shaking her head. “I didn’t like that Junie keeps getting hurt. And when I found out she’d been in the Tombs, it…it scared me.”</p><p>“Scairt me too,” Cass said with a faint smile.</p><p>“But it wasn’t about you, dear. I can tell you make her happy,” Mama finished, and Cassidy seemed to sag with relief. “Right, Orion?”</p><p>We turned to Daddy; still seated, silent and contemplative. Cass and I sank back down to our spots on the couch, and Cassidy’s leg bounced twice before he stilled himself with a sharp sigh. When Mama sat it was on Cassidy’s other side, and we waited anxiously for Daddy to speak. </p><p>“Last night, you said you didn’t want this for her,” Daddy said finally. “Being…like you,” he added, the faintest tinge of distaste coloring his tone, and I swallowed.</p><p>“Tell yeh th’ trut’, mate, I don’ want it fer anyone. Least of all someone I love.” Cass squeezed my hand tightly, and Daddy’s lips pressed together.</p><p>“But about the time you decide you want to marry her, you found a reason regardless. To make her like you. A vampire.” His accusing tone suddenly made sense; Cassidy’s eyebrows twitched upward, but when he spoke again his voice was still pleasant and even, though I could feel the growl rumbling in his chest.</p><p>“Are yeh suggestin’ I arranged fer her t’ get shot?” he asked. “Huddled up wit’ God an’ my buddies at th’ Grail an’ asked ‘em t’ fake the Apocalypse t’ get her t’ere, maybe? Pulled Tulip aside an’ said lissen, I know she’s yer friend but I needja t’ put two bullets in her?”</p><p>“Proinsias,” I said softly, and he stilled. Daddy was staring, his nostrils flared, one hand white-knuckled over the arm of the loveseat.</p><p>“When I decided I wanted t’ marry her,” Cass started again, softer this time; measured. “It was knowin’ she was goin’ t’ grow old, like she shoulda. I knew it, an’ I still wanted t’ be around as long as she’d have me. Now, I’d be lyin’ if I said it’s not a relief knowin’ she won’t age, an’ knowin’ I don’ have t’ worry about cancer an’ shark attacks an’ bloody malaria an’ car accidents—I’m a selfish bastard, an’ knowin’ she’s safe, wit’ all th’ trouble she gets up to, that’s a weight off me shoulders. But if yeh t’ink it’s somethin’ I wanted t’ do to her, or I planned it…well, yeh’re dead wrong, mate.” He sat back, sagging as though this declaration had wrung him out, and I stroked his knuckles lightly as Daddy digested his words.</p><p>“It’s true, Daddy.” I wilted a bit as he turned that penetrating stare on me. “I know it’s true because we’d…talked about it before, and he said no. And there were times when it was harder to be…be good, you know—” I hesitated, glancing at Cass, reluctant to share more than I should, but he only shrugged a shoulder. “Times when I know he <em>did </em>want to…to bite me, and he’d push me away.”</p><p>“Try to, anyway,” Cassidy murmured with a faint smile. “Stubborn t’ing.” Daddy’s finger tapped slowly against the arm of the sofa as he considered us, and I did my best not to fidget as the silence spun out between us.</p><p>“<em>Honestly, </em>Orion—” Mama began, but he waved a hand at her, hushing her.</p><p>“<em>Why </em>do you want to marry Juniper?” he asked, and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.</p><p>“I love ‘er,” Cass said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and when Daddy only raised an eyebrow he sighed, his eyes on our entwined fingers as he searched for words. “I never met anyone like her,” he said after several false starts. “I know ‘s what they all say, all us lovestruck morons, but ‘s true. She’s seen me at me worst—which is not’in’ t’ sneeze at—an’ she still wants me around, jes’ gives me a swift kick in the arse where ‘s needed an’ we get on wit’ it. An’ <em>that, </em>that knowin’ she wants t’ be there wit’ me, that makes me a better man, d’yeh know what I mean? Not because she tries t’ make me sommat I’m not, but because a good man’s what she deserves, an’ fer whatever reason she’s decided she wants t’ stick it out wit’ a rat bastard like me.”</p><p>“You’re <em>not </em>a rat bastard,” I grumbled, glaring, and he smiled.</p><p>“T’anks t’ <em>you</em>, that’s what I’m gettin’ at,” he teased, tapping the tip of my nose lightly before he turned back to Daddy, his leg bouncing anxiously. “Look, I know this—” he spread his hands, gesturing broadly to himself, “—isn’ what yeh had in mind fer a son-in-law. But I c’n promise yeh I’ll love her wit’ everythin’ I have an’ then some, as long as she’ll have me.”</p><p>Daddy stood then, and Cass eyed him nervously as he crossed the room, his face impassive. But when he thrust his hand forward Cassidy seized it, grinning triumphantly, and Daddy hauled him to his feet to clap him on the back.  </p><p>“Be glad to have you,” Daddy said gruffly, and I beamed wildly, feeling like my chest might burst with excitement and joy. When Daddy released him Cass pulled my ring from his pocket and slipped it back onto my finger, pausing to turn my hand in the light and admire it, smiling when I caught his fingers to kiss his knuckles.</p><p>“When are you going to have it?!” Mama asked eagerly. “And where? <em>Oh,</em> Junie, can you stay long enough to go dress shopping? Do you know who you’d like to stand up with you?” Cass caught my eye and I covered my lips to contain my laughter—Mama’s mind was spinning down a hundred wedding planning paths, just as mine had. “And…” She paused, her brow furrowed, and glanced cautiously at Cassidy, “how does it work, getting married when you’re…one hundred and twenty, was it?”</p><p>Cass hesitated, his enthusiasm dampened. “Well…I bin goin’ by a fake name in Washington, so we’ll get documents made up wit’ that name on it, is th’ plan.” He rubbed the back of his neck, ducking his head. “’S kinda hard t’ live strictly wit’in th’ law when yeh get t’ my age an’ look this good, d’yeh know what I mean?” he added with a rakish grin, and Mama laughed.</p><p>“No,” I said, so sudden and emphatic that Cassidy blinked. “I want <em>your name</em>, Proinsias,” I insisted stubbornly, and Mama’s brow furrowed.</p><p>“Well, Junie, I just don’t know if it’s possible without outing Cassidy as a…you know,” she said helplessly, and I shook my head, holding Cassidy’s eyes.</p><p>“We know an ordained preacher who’d officiate a vampire wedding.” His eyebrows rose, a disbelieving smile crossing his face, and I turned to Mama and Daddy. “Don’t be mad…”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So! Originally the conversation between Cass and Orion about marrying Juniper was going to happen 'off-screen', but then I was listening to Helpless from Hamilton, and the moment where Alexander gets permission and the highlighting of Eliza's anxiety and excitement when her father says yes is very sweet! So I changed it and hence: chapter name!<br/>I hope y'all loved it. If you have a comment I'd love to read it!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0079"><h2>79. Say Yes to the...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Wedding preparation begins!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My cheeks ached from smiling, but I couldn’t stop—didn’t want to—and Cass laughed softly as he climbed into bed beside me. I straddled his lap, my hands pressed to his cheeks, and when my ring caught the low light I couldn’t hold back a giddy squeal.</p><p>“We’re going to get <em>married,</em>” I whispered, and his hands came to my waist, squeezing gently.</p><p>“Mm,” Cass affirmed with a nod, his eyes sparkling as he smiled up at me.</p><p>“We don’t even have to elope!”</p><p>“Nope.” His grin widened and he pulled me to him, wrapping his arms securely around me so I was crushed against his chest. “I love yeh, Juniper.”</p><p>“I love you, Proinsias Cassidy.” I pressed my lips to his eagerly, moaning quietly at their softness, and he chuckled again at my enthusiasm, but gently pushed me away just as I began to feel his cock twitching against me.</p><p>“Yer parents,” he cautioned, and when I rested my chin on his chest, pouting theatrically, he craned his neck to peck my nose lightly. “I don’ wanna push my luck.”</p><p>“<em>Fine…</em>” I slid from his stomach, curling under his arm against his side, and he brushed his thumb over my hip rhythmically, drawing a contented hum. “I <em>told </em>you they’d like you,” I said smugly, resting my head on his chest.</p><p>“Not Cypress.” He looked away, and I felt a prick of resentment with him for spoiling the moment.</p><p>“The ones who <em>matter </em>like you,” I said fiercely, and was still more incensed by the guilt that churned in my stomach as I said it. “And maybe he’ll come around when you’re officially his brother-in-law,” I added, though I doubted it.</p><p>“<em>Brot’er-in-law</em>,” Cass repeated, staring at the ceiling. “Christ.” He slid one arm behind his head and grinned down at me, suddenly mischievous. “How d’yeh t’ink yer Da’s doin’, knowin’ his future son-in-law’s twice his age?”</p><p>“Ask him in the morning,” I challenged. “First thing. Before coffee. <em>Murnin’, Mr. Guidry, I w’s jes’ wonderin’ how yeh feel aboutcher daughter marryin’ someone older’n th’ concept o’ sliced bread?</em>” His hand flew to his chest as he groaned in mock agony, and I grinned, emboldened. “<em>Older’n th’ state o’ Oklahoma? Older’n—</em>” I cut off with a squeak as he clapped a hand over my mouth, laughing.</p><p>“Alright already, enough, t’entire nation o’ Ireland is cryin’! Christ, yeh sound like a Lucky Charms commercial,” he teased, but when he pulled his hand away he kissed me sweetly, cupping my cheek in his palm. “It doesn’…bother you, does it? Me bein’ older’n all th’ stars in the sky?” He smiled, but his eyes were anxious as they searched my face, and I kissed him again.</p><p>“It’s never bothered me. And now I guess it doesn’t matter, if neither of us are aging.” I looked at my hands as I said it, considering for the first time that they would never grow brittle or thin or spotted.</p><p>“Yeah.” Cass sighed the word, tucking his arm behind his head again, and I frowned.</p><p>“Is that bad?” I asked timidly.</p><p>“No!” His voice was loud in the otherwise still room, and made me jump. “I mean…’s complicated, is all. It’s all sunshine an’ rainbows fer me, yeh know, now I get t’ keep yeh ferever—<em>actually </em>ferever, I mean. But fer you…” He sighed again, his brow furrowing. “Yer family, an’ yer friends, an’ everyone yeh ever knew but me…you’ll see ‘em all get old an’ die, an’ that’s my fault.”</p><p>It was my turn to sigh, pressing closer against his side until he met my gaze; his were squinted against anticipated anger, and I caught his hand to kiss his palm lightly before I spoke. “It’s your fault I get to see them again <em>at all</em>, Proinsias. Without you I’d be dead.” He nodded, but his eyes drifted away from mine, and again I felt a flare of annoyance. “Can we worry about that when it comes? Please?”</p><p>“You got it,” he said, but when he smiled down at me it was wan, half-hearted, and I crushed my lips to his, climbing to straddle his waist again. He gasped softly, his hands slipping under my shirt to roam over my back, but when I paused for breath he rested his forehead against mine. “Yer <em>parents</em>…” he repeated, and moaned softly as I kissed along his jaw to his ear, dipping to nip his neck gently, smiling as his breath stuttered in his throat.</p><p>“We can be quiet,” I whispered, grazing my nose along the ridge of his collarbone. When he still hesitated I caught his hand and slipped it under the waist of my panties to the lips of my cunt, warm and slick with want already. He groaned breathily, letting his head fall back against the wall, and his cock throbbed mightily beneath me.</p><p>“Yeh make a compellin’ argument,” he murmured, grinning crookedly at me, and wriggled out of his boxers as I peeled off my soaked panties. I took him inside me, all at once, and his nostrils flared with a silent gasp, his fingers digging into my hips, exquisitely painful. I rode him slowly at first, mindful of mattress creaks and headboard thumps, but when one of his thumbs began smooth, slippery circles over my clit I squeaked softly, and he smirked up at me as my pace quickened and grew wilder.</p><p>When my quiet, needy moans continued he breathed a laugh, smirking at me. “I t’ought yeh said we’d—<em>oh—</em>be quiet?” I pressed my face to his shoulder; when I sank my teeth into his skin to muffle myself it was his turn to groan, and my body trembled and twitched with the effort of containing my ecstasy.</p><p>The only sounds were Cassidy’s breathing, hot and ragged against my shoulder, and our bodies colliding in the dark. My shuddering intensified as he worked my swollen, divinely sensitive clit, and suddenly it was <em>there,</em> just beyond reach but coming fast. He moaned, barely audible, as my nails bit into his skin, and I pressed my lips against to his ear to whisper between quick pants—</p><p>“<em>I’m cumming, Cass, just keep doing that, I’m—</em>” It crashed over me then and my words cut off with a high, thready sigh. At the sound of it against his ear Cass was there too—there was a sharp, delicious pain in my shoulder as he bit down to muffle his groan, and I shivered against him, every sensation magnified.   </p><p>When the last aftershocks had faded we sank down in the bed together; him still inside me, me sprawled comfortably over his chest. He rubbed my back in long, firm strokes that lulled me into a doze, and when he felt me begin to drift away he brushed his lips over my hair.</p><p>“Sweet dreams, <em>mo gréine</em>. I love yeh.”<br/>~~~~<br/>I hadn’t moved when I woke; Cassidy’s arms were still folded around me, and his soft breaths blew my hair ticklishly over my face and cheeks, but when I raised my head his eyes were open, and he smiled lazily down at me.</p><p>“’Bout goddamn time. T’ought I was gonna piss meself,” he said, and kissed the top of my head before I rolled sleepily to the bed beside him.</p><p>“You coulda said something,” I grumbled as I stretched, but he shook his head as he stood to dress.</p><p>“Yeh look too sweet sleepin’ fer me t’ do somethin’ like that.” I flushed happily, lowering my head to hide my flattered smile, until he glanced over with a mischievous grin on his face. “An’ yeh’re a goddamn monster if yeh’re woken before yeh’re ready.” He neatly ducked the pillow I tossed at him, laughing.</p><p>“I’m a monster <em>all the time</em>, thank you,” I said primly, pulling on my clothes, and he kissed me on the forehead.</p><p>“Yeh’re right, o’ course, an’ shame on me fer fergettin’ it.”</p><p>Mama and Daddy were already at the table when we emerged, and were ready with coffee in the pot and a kettle on the stove. By the time Cass joined us I’d placed a steaming mug at each of our places, and he toasted me gratefully before he sipped his tea.</p><p>“Did you have plans in mind for today, Junie?” Mama asked, unusually tentative, and I blinked.</p><p>“No, not really,” I said. “Why?”</p><p>Daddy smiled, his eyes rolling heavenward, as Mama beamed. “Now I know it’s quick, but Junie we never <em>see </em>you any more, you live so far away, so I’ve made an appointment to go dress shopping. If you want.”</p><p>Excited nerves sent a tingle along my spine, and I fidgeted eagerly in my chair. “That sounds <em>perfect</em>, Mama,” I squeaked. “Thank you.” She squeezed my hand warmly, her eyes welling up with tears, and I had to turn away before I started crying too.</p><p>“D’yeh know what Rowan’s up to t’day?” Cassidy asked. “While you two’re out gallivantin’ t’ere’s somethin’ I need t’ talk to him about.”</p><p>“What is it?!” Mama leaned forward, her eyes eager, and Cassidy’s lips curved in a secretive grin.</p><p>“Jes’ <em>somethin’</em>, Hazel, mind yer business,” he chided playfully, and she sat back with a smile.</p><p>The hours before our appointment stretched out endlessly, and I fidgeted through games of cards, barely distracted by Cassidy’s artful shuffling and dealing. At last it was time, and I raced to get my umbrella and sunglasses, pulling on a thin pair of gloves and a jacket before I met Mama in the entryway. She sighed softly when she saw me peer out the window cautiously, and I squeezed her hand.</p><p>“I’m sorry. It’s just so easy to forget that things have changed, seeing you all bundled up like that is…” She bit her lip, her eyes turned downward as she blinked away tears.</p><p>“I know, Mama. But I’m <em>here</em>, still.”</p><p>She nodded once, and when she raised her head all trace of tears were gone, replaced with a radiant smile. “You’re right. I’m being silly. Are you ready?”</p><p>“<em>Yes!</em>” I gave another excited wriggle as I followed her out the door, safe in the shade of my umbrella.</p><p>The bridal boutique was the most overtly feminine place I’d ever seen—the carpets and walls a soft rose pink, flattering lights spotlighting the mirrors in the fitting area, and racks upon racks of dresses in cream and blush and ivory and pure white. The woman who approached to greet us seemed impossibly beautiful, with golden honey curls and a softly glowing tan, but she had such a warm presence that it was impossible to feel envious.</p><p>“You must be Hazel and Juniper. I’m Phoebe, I’d love to help you today.” Her voice was soft but clear, and though I knew wooing us was part of her job description I couldn’t squash the feeling that we could be great friends. She bustled us over to the fitting rooms, where she expertly measured me, her hands flying but so light that I barely noticed them. “Do we know what style we’re looking for? Color?”</p><p>“Twenties,” I blurted, and Mama blinked.</p><p>“Well, it’s a very new engagement, so we haven’t really talked about styles…” she said, and Phoebe nodded, full of sympathetic understanding.</p><p>“It sounds like we’re not quite sure yet. Why don’t I get us a variety of styles and we can see what we like?” I sighed softly—I was <em>very </em>sure—but when I saw Mama’s bright smile and shining eyes in the mirror I couldn’t bring myself to protest. Phoebe hustled away, disappearing among the racks of dresses, and I took the chair next to Mama while we waited.</p><p>“Is a twenties theme what <em>you </em>want, or what Cassidy wants?” Mama asked, and I shrugged.</p><p>“I want it <em>because</em> he’d like it,” I said, and when she pressed her lips tightly together I rushed to clarify. “He’d be happy with whatever I choose, but…” I smiled sadly as I recalled the way he’d explained in Masada. “Nothing in his life has gone according to plan, you know? He had these expectations for how his things would go, and then when he got…” I gestured to the side of my neck, and Mama nodded, “he lost it all. So if I can sort of give him one of those moments back by wearing a specific style of dress, then I want to.”</p><p>Mama plucked a tissue from her purse, dabbing at her eyes as Phoebe returned, loaded down with armfuls of white tulle and satin and silk. “<em>Mom! </em>Crying is strictly reserved for <em>after </em>we find the perfect dress!”</p><p>Before I could blink I was herded into the tiny fitting room and handed something that felt like a chiffon circus tent—when I’d stepped into it the vast sea of fabric around my feet left me afraid to move, for fear of tearing one of the many layers. Cheeks flaming, I summoned Phoebe back to help with the corset-style back, and when I was ready to show Mama, the skirt was so wide that I popped out of the changing room door like a cork from the neck of a bottle.</p><p>The dress was spellbinding—the strapless bodice closely fitted and finely ruched, and the wide ballgown skirt was studded with tiny beads that glittered like stars as I turned. But the fabric of the skirt scratched at my legs, and the stiffness of the bodice made me feel trapped; still I did a quick spin, showing it off. Mama’s eyes grew wet and her nose red as I turned, but a sudden sharp sigh caught my attention, and when I faced her, she was frowning.</p><p>“<em>Juniper!</em>” she hissed, scandalized, and touched her shoulder. When I craned my head to look I spotted it—a purple-red bruise, in the distinct shape of a bite mark. Blushing, I grinned bashfully and shrugged one shoulder, and Mama rolled her eyes to the ceiling.</p><p>“Next?” Phoebe asked, red tinting her cheeks, and I nodded, already tugging at the wide satin ribbon that closed the back.</p><p>“I would <em>really </em>like to try on something sort of nineteen-twenties style, if you have it…” I repeated through the fitting room door.</p><p>“I know! Just try this one first, it’s a very popular look right now, I know you have your heart set on twenties but just keep an open mind, okay?” Before I could respond she’d opened the door and thrust another dress inside, and I sighed, eyeing the garment bag that sheathed it suspiciously.</p><p>The second dress was promising at first—with less fabric, lighter and more flexible, and a queen anne neckline that felt safer for dancing than a sleeveless gown. But when I’d zipped it and tried to leave the fitting room to show Mama I found myself hobbled; the dress wrapped so tightly around my legs that I could only take tiny, mincing steps. The mirror only soured me toward the dress further. The clinging, lacy sheath stretched to my knee, but beyond that was a floating cloud of layered ruffles that drifted gently as I moved.</p><p>“I look like a <em>toilet brush</em>,” I moaned, and Mama laughed.</p><p>“But the most beautiful toilet brush,” she assured me, and I stuck my tongue out at her.</p><p>“I think we’ve settled on something twenties style,” Mama said firmly to Phoebe, who nodded and promptly disappeared—a woman on a mission.</p><p>A steady parade of disappointments followed—garish, fully sequined flapper dresses that felt more appropriate for Party City than a bridal boutique, gauzy lace gowns that looked like doilies and were shaped like nightdresses, fully beaded floor-length sheaths that seemed to weigh twenty pounds and were so elegant that they only served to make me feel ridiculous. As the list of rejected options grew, I found myself missing Eccarius and his keen eye for period fashion.</p><p>“Are we leaning toward anything in particular?” Phoebe asked, her eyes darting to the clock, and I shrugged, blushing.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “Nothing’s just…<em>right</em>.”</p><p>“No, of course!” she chirped. “You need to pick the one that makes you <em>feel like a bride</em>, and you can’t rush that!”</p><p>“Maybe one more, Junie?” Mama asked hopefully, and I nodded.</p><p>“So you liked the length from the second one, and the detailing on number four, and the neckline on the fifth, right?” Phoebe asked, her perfectly shaped eyebrows scrunching as she thought.</p><p>“Um…yes?” I said hesitantly—I couldn’t quite remember, but that sounded right. She gave another sharp nod, like an admiral who’d received marching orders, and again she was gone. I gathered up the skirt of the latest reject to sit beside Mama, scoffing as the expansive cloud of tulle and lace puffed up over my lap.</p><p>“I’m gonna wear a pillow case. And crocs,” I threatened.</p><p>“You’re being ridiculous. We’ll find something <em>perfect. </em>It’s only the first try.” She fingered the beading that covered the skirt of my current dress, frowning. “Junie, does it <em>have </em>to be Jesse L’Ang—Jesse Custer who officiates?”</p><p>“I’m pretty sure etiquette rules state that if you stop the Apocalypse with someone you have to at least invite them to your wedding.” I grinned, but when Mama didn’t return it I grew serious. “He’s my friend, Mama. And he’s better now. I promise.” She nodded, but before she could formulate a response Phoebe was back with her newest find; the garment bag seemed small in her arms, and I was grateful that this one at least appeared not to feature a huge ballgown skirt.</p><p>I brightened as I slipped into it; the fabric gently hugged my body to my hips, but below that it pooled around me like softly running water. After an hour of constricting, scratchy, and bulky dresses, moving in this one felt as easy as breathing, and I spun in the fitting room, delighted by the way the skirt flowed after me. My cheeks were still stretched with my smile as I emerged, and my face heated as Mama gasped.</p><p>“Oh <em>Junie</em>,” she breathed, and I ducked my head shyly. “<em>Look </em>at you!” I took a deep breath, working to quash the rising hope that this might be the one, and turned to look.</p><p>For the first time all day, the woman in the mirror didn’t look like a child playing dress-up, but like a real bride, ready for a real wedding. I squared my shoulders, standing tall as I took in my reflection. Suddenly I could see it, as surely as though I’d been transported into the future—my family and friends lining an aisle, my Daddy beside me with his arm looped through mine. And Cass, waiting for me at the altar, impossibly handsome in a dark suit and wearing his crooked grin. </p><p>“Is this the one?” Phoebe asked, and all I could do was nod, beaming too hard to speak. “Do you want to get <em>married</em> in this dress?” Again I knew it was part of her spiel, but I couldn’t help returning her radiant smile. “Let me hear you say it!” All around the store heads turned toward us, like woodland creatures who had scented fire, and I covered my face, my skin burning.</p><p>“I want to get married in this dress,” I squeaked, and cheers followed me back into the fitting room.<br/>~~~~<br/>I clutched my bag of carefully chosen accessories close to my chest as I hurried behind Mama to hide them and my dress—<em>my wedding dress!</em>—in her room. When they were safely stowed away I found Rowan and Cassidy in the living room—Cass sprawled lazily on the loveseat, watching Robert Pattinson and Taylor Lautner glare and snarl at each other over Kristen Stewart. Rowan lay still on the couch, one arm thrown over his eyes, a tall glass of water and a plate of crackers resting on the end table next to his head.</p><p>“You won’t watch The Big Lebowski but you’ll watch this?” I took the seat next to Cassidy, hooking my legs over his lap, humming happily when he wrapped his arm around my shoulders.</p><p>“It’s what was on, alright? They’re runnin’ a marathon.” Despite my teasing, we watched in silence, Cassidy trailing his fingers up and down the inside of my forearm, until I scoffed at Carlisle’s monologuing about the animalistic savagery and mindlessness of newly created vampires.</p><p>“Fucking <em>insulting</em>,” I complained, and Cass snorted with quiet laughter.</p><p>“Yeh get used t’ it. Sort of.” When I still frowned, he pressed a quick kiss to my temple. “Did yeh find somethin’ yeh liked today?” he asked with exaggerated disinterest, and I ducked my head against a secretive smile, giddy as I recalled the perfect dress I’d found.</p><p>“Maybe. What’d you do to him?” I nodded at Rowan, who’d yet to acknowledge my presence.</p><p>“Oh, he wanted t’ try matchin’ me drink fer drink,” Cassidy explained with a crooked grin. “Made it all of about twenty minutes.”</p><p>“Laugh it up, grandpa,” Rowan slurred weakly, otherwise unmoving, and I winced sympathetically.</p><p>“Why were you drinking at—” I glanced at the clock, exasperated, “two in the afternoon?”</p><p>“How else ‘m I s’pposed t’ t’ank me best man but givin’ him alcohol poisoning?” Cass asked, his eyes sparkling, and I gasped softly, both hands rising to my mouth to contain my wide grin.</p><p>“Best <em>man! </em>Tell me everything. What happened? How did you ask?”</p><p>Cassidy laughed at my eagerness, kissing me lightly before he answered. “I took ‘im out fer a bite, an’ I said, d’yeh know Rowan, yeh’re one o’ me best mates, an’ yeh’re a good brother t’ Juniper, yeh know I could tell right from th’ start yeh’d kill an’ die fer her—fact I t’ought yeh were maybe gonna, when yeh brought her back t’ me in New Orleans—an’ so it’d be nice t’ have yeh up there wit’ us when we tie th’ knot. An’ he said yes.” He rattled it off casually, and seemed surprised when tears welled up in my eyes.</p><p>“And then he tried to kill me,” Rowan grumbled, rolling to face the back of the couch, and Cass snorted.</p><p>“That was yer own doin’ mate, I di’n’t make yeh do not’in’.”</p><p>“I’m really glad you’ll be up there with us, Ro,” I said softly, and he rolled laboriously to face us again, smiling dazedly.</p><p>“Me too, Junie. Love you,” he sighed, and then his eyes drifted closed and he began to snore. I cuddled closer to Cassidy, tucking my head under his chin to rest on his chest, and he squeezed me closer still.</p><p>“Well, that’s my side sorted, anyway. An’ yer dress. What’s next?”</p><p>“Officiant,” I said decisively. “And maid of honor. So…Dallas?”</p><p>Cass nodded once, the point of his chin pressing against my skull. “Dallas.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey y'all! Sorry for the late post this evening, it was a heck of a weekend. I hope you love the fluff! It's what Cass and Juniper deserve after all the nonsense they've gone through...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0080"><h2>80. Announcements</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper and Cass share news of their engagement with Tulip and Jesse, who have a surprise of their own...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Are you <em>sure</em> this is the right Chili’s?” I slurped the last dregs of my drink before plucking the orange slice from the rim of my glass and nibbling at it as I watched the door anxiously.</p><p>Cassidy sighed, no doubt piqued by my questioning of his navigational skills. “By th’ mall, jes’ off six-t’irty-five, which is jes’ off th’ eighty,” he recited. “Course I’m sure.” When my eyes returned to the entrance he squeezed my hand warmly and bumped his shoulder against mine. “They’ll be here, <em>mo gréine</em>, stop worryin’. D’yeh want another one?”</p><p>I pushed my empty glass to join the growing collection on the table. Cassidy had been throwing back drinks as fast as the staff could produce them, but after only two my mind felt pleasantly fuzzy, and I shook my head—I didn’t want to tip into drunkenness. Cass flagged down our waitress to order another for himself, and once again she glanced at the two untouched glasses that sat at the places across from us, failing to mask her confusion. They’d melted to the color and consistency of red Kool-Aid, and condensation had soaked through the cheap cardboard coasters beneath them to spread across the table. I began to wonder if ordering for Jesse and Tulip had been a mistake.</p><p>A sharp elbow dug into my side, and when I glanced at Cass he nodded toward the door: they’d just rushed in, breathless but grinning, Tulip in a blue poodle-skirted dress and Jesse in his trademark black, with metal tips at his collar and a flash of white at his throat. I blinked at that—surely after everything he wasn’t still preaching?—but my wave was as enthusiastic as Cassidy’s. As they wove through the tables to join us a trio of Texas state troopers raced by outside, lights flashing and sirens wailing.</p><p>“Sorry we’re late,” Jesse said, but he couldn’t seem to repress his grin. “Job ran long.”</p><p>“It wouldn’a run long if you’d quit actin’ like I need babysittin’!” Tulip grumbled, glaring, but the corners of her eyes crinkled playfully, and Jesse only smiled and gently squeezed her hand.</p><p>“Here they are!” Cass threw himself out of the booth to clap Jesse so enthusiastically on the shoulder that he flinched. “Jess, how yeh bin, mate? Yeh look good, handsome devil as always.”</p><p>“Juniper! Hey!” Tulip’s bright, eager smile felt like home, and I slid from my seat to greet her, but as I approached she fell back a step, her eyes suddenly watchful. I halted, my brow furrowing—until I remembered the last time I’d seen them; how careful I’d had to be around them, and shame turned the lingering sweetness in my mouth cloying and rotten.</p><p>“I’m okay,” I assured her quietly, forcing a small smile. “I’ve had a lot more practice.” Before I’d finished she’d wrapped me in a tight hug, and I swallowed against the temptation of her.</p><p>“<em>Good,</em>” she said. “How are you?”</p><p>“Good,” I sighed happily, allowing myself the thrilling enticement of resting my cheek against the strong pulse in her neck, and a moment later Cass joined us and we sandwiched Tulip until she squirmed. When we’d disentangled ourselves I turned to Jesse, and after the briefest hesitation I hugged him too; his hands when they came to my back were cautious, but I squeezed him until he returned the pressure, though the metal that decorated his collar dug into my temple. At last I let him go and we found our seats. “How are you? What have you been up to?”</p><p>“This and that. We’re workin’ on opening up an auto repair shop. A legit one.” Tulip beamed proudly, and I couldn’t help returning it.</p><p>“That’s <em>amazing! </em>And perfect for you,” I said, reaching across the table to take her hand.</p><p>“What’re yeh gonna call it?” Cass asked; he stretched his arm along the back of our booth, and when I leaned into his side cozily, with Tulip’s soft fingers folded in mine, a wave of contentment swept over me, so strong that I hummed softly.</p><p>“We’re thinkin’ <em>Custer’s Auto</em>.” Jesse gestured expansively in the air over the table, until Tulip slapped his hands back down like a cat swatting a bird out of the air.</p><p>“I don’t know how many times we gotta go over this. We are <em>not</em> callin’ it Custer’s, you ain’t even the one that knows how to fix cars! <em>And O’Hare’s Repairs </em>would rhyme, and rhymin’s good for business!”</p><p>“<em>O’Hare’s Repairs</em> is definitely better, mate,” Cass said, his tone an apology for the betrayal, and I nodded.</p><p>“Yeah, gonna have to side with Tulip on that,” I agreed, and Jesse’s eyebrows drew down in a mock scowl.</p><p>“’Course you are,” he grumbled. He took a sip from the glass that had been waiting for him and smiled across the table at me. “Strawberry daquiris.”</p><p>“You did promise,” I said, and Tulip’s eyes turned from Jesse to me and back, squinting and suspicious.</p><p>“You don’t even <em>like</em> strawberry daquiris!” she accused, and when my eyebrows rose he scoffed.</p><p>“I like ‘em fine!” he lied, but quailed under Tulip’s stare. “When Juniper and me were in the elevator in Masada, waitin’, I said when we were done we’d go to a Chili’s and have daquiris. So.” He raised his glass in a toast and drained it, his nose wrinkling against the taste. </p><p>Tulip slid her glass across the table to me. “Too sweet and not strong enough for me,” she explained, and I was happy enough to have another, even if it was melted—though when the waitress returned Tulip only wanted a lemonade.</p><p>After we’d ordered a massive platter of chili cheese fries to share Cass fell into telling work stories; tales from fishermen who swore up and down to have met mermaids or sirens or seen the inky form of the kraken sweeping under their boats, fights over wives and husbands, disputes over which patch of ocean belonged to who. As Cassidy spoke my eyes drifted to the white collar around Jesse’s neck again, and he cleared his throat when he caught me staring.</p><p>“Is my patch crooked?” He touched the cord that held his eyepatch in place, and grinned when I flushed.</p><p>“No, it’s just…after everything, after how God was, you’re still preaching?” I tried to keep the incredulousness out of my voice, but could see from his face that I was unsuccessful.</p><p>“I’m not,” he said, fingering the collar lightly. “But after all this time, I feel naked without it. And it reminds me of my father.”</p><p>“Oh,” I murmured, lowering my eyes. “Sorry.” He shrugged one shoulder, seemingly unoffended, and when I offered a hesitant smile he returned it.</p><p>The cheese fries came then, fully loaded with beef and jalapenos and green onions, and we dug in greedily, though I noticed that Tulip only plucked the most naked fries from the edges. She and Jesse had wasted no time in returning to petty (and not so petty) crime and on return from Masada, and the retelling of their latest string of jobs kept us captivated until well after the entrees came.</p><p>After their raucous stories I worried that our small life would bore them, but there was no need—Cass was such a thrilling narrator that he made even the most routine days worth hearing about. Even the diners at other tables craned their necks to look and listen, though I wasn’t sure whether that was more to do with the content of Cassidy’s stories or the unusual melody of a distinctly Irish accent in the middle of Texas.</p><p>“You really see whales on your way to work?” Jesse asked skeptically when Cassidy paused for breath. “Actual, <em>Free Willy</em> whales?”</p><p>“Come visit sometime and see them yourself,” I challenged with a smile, and he scoffed.</p><p>“You said you needed to talk to us about somethin’,” Tulip reminded us when we’d finished eating and leaned back lazily in our seats, and Cassidy and I exchanged giddy grins. “Ah, Christ, they <em>have </em>joined a homeowners association,” she teased drily, and I laughed.</p><p>“No, shut up, listen.” I turned to Cass again, but he nodded at me to go ahead, and I squeezed his hand, so excited I felt I was vibrating. “Cassidy proposed.”</p><p>“Congratulations,” Jesse said with a warm smile.</p><p>“<em>Shut up! </em>When?!” I was sure at least some of Tulip’s excitement was a put-on, but that she cared enough to pretend warmed me.</p><p>“Th’ night you came t’ find us, that’s where we were comin’ back from,” Cassidy provided. “Hones’ly, woman, yer timin’s terrible.”</p><p>She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “And you didn’t <em>say </em>anything?”</p><p>“T’ere was more pressin’ stuff t’ deal wit’! Like my kneecap bein’ in half a dozen pieces!” Jesse’s eye flicked to Tulip as she opened her mouth to give it right back to Cass, like he was watching the world’s most entertaining ping-pong match.</p><p>“<em>Anyway,</em>” I said pointedly, giving Cassidy’s wholly recovered knee a sharp squeeze, and he nodded once.</p><p>“<em>Anyway</em>, what we wanted t’ talk t’ yeh about, Padre, is Juniper’s dead set on usin’ me original birt’ certificate an’ name, but officiants who’d do that fer a fella my age wit’out askin’ questions are few an’ far between, d’yeh know what I mean? So we t’ought, bein’ as you’d be invited anyway, maybe you’d be willin’ t’ officiate our weddin’.”</p><p>Jesse paused with his beer bottle to his lips and lowered it to lean back in his seat, his eye on his hands as he rolled the request over in his mind, and Tulip, Cass and I watched him eagerly. After a moment of silence Cass and I exchanged another glance—this one apprehensive. When Jesse looked up again, it was to me, his brows furrowed.</p><p>“Your family’ll be there?” To my surprise and delight, he seemed nervous, <em>almost</em> fearful, and I had to work to hide my amusement.</p><p>“Yes, they’ll be there. All except Cypress,” I replied, and bit my lip against a grin when Jesse swallowed.</p><p>“Cypress’ll be t’ere, Juniper, stop it,” Cass said—having the dual effect of reassuring me and alarming Jesse further.</p><p>“I wanna be there for you guys, I just don’t know if it’s a good idea.” Jesse lowered his head as he spoke, and he looked so apologetic that I couldn’t tease him any more.</p><p>“I already <em>talked </em>to them, Jess, they know I want this and they’re okay with it,” I said, and smiled when he breathed a sigh, his shoulders dropping. “Ish.”</p><p>“What’d you tell ‘em?” he asked, stretching one arm around Tulip’s shoulders—she’d barely touched her burger. “Musta been big, if they’re willin’ to see me and not rip my head off.”</p><p>I turned my eyes down to the table, shredding my napkin, suddenly anxious of having said too much. “Told ‘em you never wanted to be in Angelville any more than I did—either time.” When I glanced up again he nodded, and I carried on, encouraged. “Told them what your Granma did to your parents, and that you were the one that finally burned it down, and took care of her and Jody and TC.” I’d told them about Hell too, but a nagging, irrational part of me worried that mentioning it aloud here and now would summon the broken Jesse who’d first returned to us. “They’re not excited about it, but it’s our wedding, and they’re alright with it. More or less.”</p><p>“Then ‘course I’ll officiate,” Jesse said with a faint smile, and I squealed softly, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand warmly as Cassidy beamed.</p><p>“Thank you, Jesse,” I said, and his smile broadened, his eye crinkling at the corner.</p><p>“Good man.” Cass cupped Jesse’s cheek in his hand a moment before roughly ruffling his perfectly coifed hair, and Jess yanked his head away, grinning. “It’ll be good t’ have yeh, Padre,” Cassidy added seriously, and I raised my eyes to the ceiling, blinking back tears.</p><p>“When are you thinkin’ of havin’ it?” Jesse asked. He leaned forward, his fingers interlaced over the table, suddenly all business.</p><p>“End of June,” I supplied. “The twenty-seventh, is the plan. It’s a Friday.” I found Cassidy’s hand under the table and squeezed tightly as the thrill of saying the date out loud swept through me.</p><p>“What kinda ceremony are you thinkin’?” Jesse asked. “Catholic? Protestant?”</p><p>“<em>Secular</em>,” Cass and I said in unison, so loudly that other patrons glanced over their shoulders at us.</p><p>“Yeh’re daft if yeh t’ink that sociopathic eejit God is gettin’ anywhere close to our nuptials.” Cassidy’s voice was light, but there was the beginning of a growl in his chest, and I swept my thumb over his lightly.</p><p>“Your <em>nuptials. </em>Jesus,” Tulip said, but where I expected derision, her eyes were gleaming as she smiled. “I can’t believe <em>you </em>of all people are really settlin’ down,” she added to Cassidy, and he shrugged good-naturedly, squeezing me tight around the shoulders.</p><p>“If yeh’d told me this time las’ year it was gonna happen, I’d’ve laughed in yer face,” he said. “’Specially if yeh’d told me it’d be to this tiny moron.” He mussed my hair and I snapped at his hand playfully. “But lissen, that’s not all there was t’ talk about.”</p><p>Anxiety tightened my throat suddenly, though I knew—was <em>pretty </em>sure—that I was being silly. I turned to Tulip, taking her hands across the table, and when I raised my eyes to her face her brow was wrinkled in confusion, but she smiled reassuringly as I plucked up the words I’d prepared as Cass and I made the drive west from my parents.</p><p>“Tulip, you’re…you’re my best friend. And Cassidy’s too. You’re the first close girlfriend I ever had, I think. You’ve been there with me through some of the scariest, hardest things I’ve done in my life. You’ve been brave when I was afraid, and strong when I was weak, and smart when I’ve been stupid.” Here I grinned at her and she laughed, though it was accompanied by a sniffle and her eyes shone wet. “I know you think marriage is dumb, but I don’t wanna get married without you there.” I hesitated, swallowing, but made myself hold her gaze. “Will you please be my maid of honor?”</p><p>To my shock and amazement, Tulip let out a gasping sob, tearing her hands from my grasp to cover her mouth, flushing furiously as her tears overflowed. “<em>Shit!</em>” she snarled, and Cassidy and I stared while Jesse grinned down at the table, apparently unconcerned. Tulip fanned her face rapidly, blinking as she tried to contain herself. “<em>Fuck!</em>” she snapped, and the hostess turned to glare.</p><p>“Tulip? Are you alright?” I asked tentatively; when Jesse pulled a greying handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her she dabbed her eyes, still sniffling.</p><p>“Give her a minute.” Jesse seemed unbothered by Tulip’s fierce glare that was only somewhat lessened by her red nose and streaming eyes.</p><p>“Shut your mouth, Jesse Custer,” she said, and I bit my lip against a smile when her voice cracked. We waited on tenterhooks until she was able to speak again, and this time it was she who took my hands, squeezing tightly. “’<em>Course</em> I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” My smile stretched my cheeks to aching, and when I hastily wiped at the tears that wanted to stream down my face it set Tulip off again as though I’d unkinked a hose. “God <em>damnit</em>,” she grumbled, and blew her nose noisily into her the handkerchief.</p><p>“Hold on a sec,” Cass said suddenly—he leaned forward, squinting at Tulip, who glared and hiccupped. “Yeh’re not drinkin’.” He pointed to her lemonade, conspicuous among our daquiris and Jesse’s empty beer bottles.</p><p>“It’s <em>lunchtime</em>,” Tulip snapped, as if that had ever stopped her before.</p><p>“An’ yeh never ate anyt’in’ but fries,” Cassidy went on, ticking off the point on his fingers; there was a sharp thump under the table, and he yelped, bending to rub his shin, but his blooming grin didn’t falter. “An’ now <em>you</em>, Tulip O’Hare, are cryin’ over a weddin’?” Dawning realization struck me, and I turned to grin at Tulip, wide-eyed.</p><p>“Shut up Cass, I’m warnin’ you,” she growled, but it was too late.</p><p>“You’re <em>pregnant?</em>” I choked, and all trace of hostility drained from Tulip’s face; an air of content I’d rarely seen in her replaced it as her hands drifted to rest over her stomach. Jesse was beaming as he watched her, his gaze softer than I’d ever seen it. Cass leaned back in his seat, his arms crossed over his chest, smiling smugly as we awaited her answer.</p><p>“Yeah.” Tulip’s voice was barely more than a whisper as she smiled at me, almost shyly, and she doubled as my eyes welled again.</p><p>“Well done, mate,” Cass said, smirking at Jesse, and he rolled his eye.</p><p>“Congratulations!” I squealed. “<em>When </em>were you gonna tell us?!”</p><p>“We figured y’all had big news, I didn’t wanna steal your thunder,” Tulip replied. Her hands still gently cradled her stomach, though if she’d begun to show at all it was imperceptible to me. “And…we wanted to keep it a bit quiet for a while. Just in case.” She swallowed, and when Jesse reached for her hand she clung to him tightly. Cassidy seemed to shrink in his seat as he understood his mistake, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously.</p><p>“Ah, Jaysis, I di’n’ even t’ink about that. Christ, Tulip, I’m sorry, I shoulda kept me big mout’ shut when yeh said so.”</p><p>She let him stew for a minute before she smiled, giving a little shrug. “It’s alright. It’s nice, having you two be the first to know.” Cass seemed to unwind slowly, his smile returning as his fear of Tulip’s ire faded.</p><p>Then her face crumpled all at once, her hands flying to her mouth too late to cover her sob. Jesse pulled her close, murmuring soft reassurances in her ear as Cassidy’s hands flapped helplessly in the air, desperate to help, and my eyes welled, my heart aching at the depths of her sorrow.</p><p>“I’m sorry! Aw, shite, c’mon, it’s…it’ll be alright, I jes’—” He cut himself off, watching her miserably as her shoulders shook with her short, gasping sobs. When she spoke again it was halting, each word punctuated by a sniffle or hiccup.</p><p>“I—am gonna be—so <em>huge</em>—at your wedding!”</p><p>As the true reason for her upset filtered through to us we stilled, until the only movement was the slight shaking of Tulip’s shoulders and the twitching of our lips into near-identical grins.</p><p>Jesse broke first, though he tried valiantly to contain it, biting his lip savagely as his face grew red, his good eye streaming and his throat working with silent laughter. A choking exhale caught Tulip’s attention, and when she turned to see him laughing she scowled savagely, smacking his chest with her open palm.</p><p>“<em>It’s—</em>” Slap! “<em>—not—</em>” Slap! “<em>—funny!</em>” Slap! At this he could no longer contain himself, and she squashed herself away from him into the corner of the booth, scowling at Jesse as he howled with laughter.</p><p>Cassidy went next, though he tried heroically not to; he’d pressed his lips together, staring very hard out the window to the parking lot. But when the dam burst it was immediate—I’d only just seen the corner of his mouth twitch and then his raucous, snorting laugh joined Jesse’s.</p><p>I was finished with his first graceless snort, though I’d glued my eyes to the table and my thumbnail left a deep crescent in my palm where I’d tried to distract myself. At Tulip’s shocked and betrayed glare I lost my tenuous hold on my senses, a great geyser of giggles erupting from deep in my stomach.</p><p>As we giggled ourselves silly Tulip’s glower slowly faded, her face smoothing until at last she plucked up the remains of her lemonade and leaned back in the booth. She sipped at it, watching calmly as we struggled in vain to regain some semblance of control, a reluctant smile curling one side of her mouth.</p><p>“Fucking morons.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! I hope you're loving the fluffy stuff.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0081"><h2>81. Preparations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The big day looms, but Juniper and Cassidy aren't quite sure whether the officiant will survive meeting the bride's family.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I’d scarcely begun to stir, still caught in the misty realm between dreaming and reality, when a soft pair of lips ghosted over the curve of my jaw and brushed my ear.</p><p>“Two more days,” Cassidy murmured, and chuckled when I squealed softly, rolling without opening my eyes to press my face hard to his chest. “Take it that means yeh’ve not gone an’ got cold feet on me?”</p><p>“Nope,” I sighed, craning my neck to smile sleepily up at him. “You?”</p><p>“Me? Christ, I don’ t’ink I bin this happy since Bieber announced <em>Purpose.</em>” I pressed my mouth to his skin to muffle my laughter, and he kissed my hair lightly. “I dunno how t’ tell yeh how excited I am t’ be yer husband,” he murmured, and when I nuzzled closer he crushed me to him, pressing his cheek against the crown of my head. “How d’yeh t’ink it’ll go t’day, wit’ yer family an’ them up there?” He jerked his nose upward, toward our loft, where Jesse and Tulip still slept, and my stomach flopped uneasily.</p><p>“I dunno,” I murmured. “They said they’ll be okay, but…saying that and then being here and seeing him in person are two different things.”</p><p>“Ah, well. We got a few hours before we have t’ worry about it, at least.” He kissed my temple, and my cheek bone, and when he reached my neck I sighed softly, allowing myself to savor his touch for a moment before I gently pushed him away.</p><p>“There’s <em>literally </em>not even a wall between us and them,” I whispered, but my eyes fluttered closed of their own accord as Cass brushed his nose over the length of my collarbone.</p><p>“Ah, c’mon love, would yeh deny a man one las’ romp as a free agent?” He returned to my neck, the warm trail left by his tongue cooled by his soft breath, and in spite of myself a soft whimper escaped. When he sucked at the thin, tender skin over my throat I jerked back, glaring.</p><p>“If you give me a hickey two days before our wedding I will <em>kill you</em>.” I hissed the threat, and he shook with quiet laughter. “<em>And </em>you’ve been using that line for a month!”</p><p>“Well, yeah, alright, but t’is time it might be fer real! Wit’ yer parents comin’ an’ Jess an’ Tulip stayin’ wit’ us, we might not get another chance!” He returned to his slow, lazy ministrations, kissing down one side of my neck, across my chest and up the other, and I gasped as he slipped his hands under my shirt, the tips of his fingers skimming over my ribs to circle my breasts, brushing my nipples into hard peaks. I shivered when his fingertips trailed downward to my hips and bit my lip against a moan when one hand slipped under the waist of my panties. He growled softly when a single finger found the slippery wetness that betrayed my want, but when I arched my back for more he pulled back with a toothy grin, though his hand didn’t leave my mound—his fingers brushed tantalizing circles through the softly curling hair there as his brow furrowed. “Yeh know, yeh’re right. It’d be wrong, wouldn’ it, wit’ our friends sleepin’ jes’ upstairs.”</p><p>“<em>Bastard</em>,” I hissed. Again his finger dipped down, sweeping once over my clit before returning to those soft, tender circles, and I pressed my mouth to his shoulder to muffle my whine. “Shower?” I asked hopefully—nearly pleading—and he tortured me with a moment’s deliberation before he scooped me into his arms and stood, the blankets falling back to the little nest in front of the fireplace where we’d spent the night.   </p><p>“Could do wit’ a wash, I suppose,” he said, his eyes sparkling, and whisked me away to the bathroom.</p><p>I waited impatiently until he’d kicked the door closed behind him, and then he grunted in surprise as my fingers tangled in his hair to yank his face to mine, capturing his lips and thrusting my tongue into his mouth. I writhed in his arms, trying to wrap my legs around his waist, to thrust myself against the hardness that pressed against my hip, and sent him careening into the wall.</p><p>“Careful, <em>mo gréine</em>, yeh’re gonna send us ass over elb—” The rest was muffled by his holey, thread-bare t-shirt as I yanked it over his head, exposing the smooth planes of his chest before I pressed my mouth to his again. I moved slower this time, sucking at his lower lip and combing my fingers through the curls I’d so roughly pulled, and he sighed against my mouth as his hardness twitched against me. He set me down carefully to shimmy out of his boxers; when his cock sprang free I growled deep in my chest and wrapped one hand around it, cupping his balls with the other, smiling as he gasped, his eyes closing.</p><p>“My fiancé can never know about this,” I whispered theatrically, and his soft laugh was interrupted by his moan when I caught a bead of precum on my thumb, slicking his head.</p><p>“I’ll take it t’ me grave,” he murmured with a crooked smile, his voice husky. “D’yeh wanna start th’ shower, or should I take yeh right here on th’ floor?” In answer I knelt before him, my hand still gently encircling his cock, smirking as he watched with lust-dark eyes. I took his swollen head in my mouth, sweeping my tongue over his tip as a shudder rocked him and his hand fisted roughly in my hair. When a soft whine escaped him I darted my head forward, taking him deep in my throat, and he groaned, his head rocking back as his hips thrust toward me. “<em>Christ</em>,” he moaned, and my lips curved into a smile around his girth.</p><p>I eased my head back, pressing my tongue against the underside of his cock, until at last he was freed with a wet pop. “Shower, I think.” My lips were still so close to his head that they brushed against it as I spoke, and he shivered.</p><p>“Minx,” he accused, and pulled me to my feet. He pressed behind me as we waited for the water to heat, his cock hard and insistent against my ass, one hand gently caressing my breast as the other toyed with my clit until my knees shook and my body trembled with want—with <em>need.</em></p><p>The shower curtain grated harshly against the rod as Cass yanked it closed, and then he joined me under the steaming water, his eager hands sliding over my skin frictionlessly, smoothly as fine silk. I propped one foot on the tub’s edge, opening myself up to him, and when he slid a single finger inside I whimpered.</p><p>“<em>Please, Proinsias.</em>” He shivered when I spoke his name, and hoisted my leg up even higher, to hook over his hip. I moaned as he thrust inside me to the hilt, pressing my face to his chest to muffle my ecstatic moans at his closeness and the way he filled me up.</p><p>“<em>Is t’at what yeh need, eh?</em>” He rocked forward again, nearly lifting my toes from the shower floor, and I was lost in the whirl of heady sensations; the near-scalding water at my back, his soft groans at my ear, the perfect friction of him inside me.</p><p>“<em>Yes…please…yes—</em>” I murmured affirmation with every thrust, my fingers raking over his skin in my desperation to pull him still closer. “Oh, Cass,” I sighed, my face pressed to the warm nook where his neck met his shoulder, and he kissed the tip of my ear in reply.</p><p>“I love yeh,” he breathed, his voice shaking with his rapidly-approaching climax. “<em>Christ </em>do I love yeh.” I felt him grow harder, felt his fingers tighten on my thigh, and pulled back to watch his face as he came; his brow deeply furrowed, eyes pressed tightly closed, lips slightly parted to free the deep groan that accompanied the mighty throbbing of his cock. When it was over he dropped his forehead to rest against my shoulder, and I cradled the back of his neck in one hand, brushing kisses along his jaw. Wordlessly, without raising his head, he turned me around, so the steaming water battered my chest, and when his expert fingers found my throbbing clit I sagged back against him, my eyes fluttering closed as a high, thready sigh escaped my lips.</p><p>The need had been building in me since waking, and now his strong, sure fingers were meeting it, more than its equal, and in less than a minute I was whimpering softly, squirming against him, my knees shaking and threatening to give as waves of pleasure overwhelmed me. “<em>Cassidy</em>—” I managed, and his free arm wrapped around me, strong and secure, giving me leave to let go. And I did, a wild cry escaping my lips, my legs turning to jelly as I crashed over the edge into euphoria.</p><p>I was still dazed and shaking, basking in the steamy heat of the water and the ticklish sensation of Cassidy’s lips brushing back and forth over the back of my neck, when a pounding at the door made us both jump.</p><p>“Wouldja <em>hurry up? </em>I’m pissin’ for two, remember?” I clapped my hands to my mouth to stifle my laughter as Cass snorted.</p><p>“Sorry love, give us a minute!” We washed quickly, grinning and giggling like lovestruck teenagers, and scurried from the bathroom, dripping and hastily wrapped in towels.</p><p>“’Bout goddamn <em>time</em>,” Tulip grumbled as we emerged, and toddled to the bathroom as fast as she was able, slamming the door behind her. Jesse, seated at the table, watched her go, somehow managing to appear equally exasperated and enamored, a steaming mug resting in front of him.</p><p>“Your phone went off while you were…busy,” he said, and my cheeks heated as I hurried past. Cass poured himself a coffee and joined Jesse at the table, completely unbothered by his near nakedness. I snatched my phone from where it rested on the end table, and when I saw the notification flashing across its screen my stomach dropped.</p><p>“<em>Cassidy!</em>” At the note of panic in my voice he flew to my side, stumbling in his haste and nearly losing his towel, and when I held up my phone for him to see his eyebrows shot up.</p><p>“I t’ought t’ey weren’t meant t’ be here til after lunch?”</p><p>“They must have caught an earlier ferry!” I’d already turned away and was vaulting up the stairs two at a time, and Cass followed right behind. I sprinted for the dresser, rummaging through it for presentable clothes. “Change of plans, Jess!” I called as I yanked a shirt over my head. “They’re gonna be here in…like, <em>now!</em>” As I bounded back down the stairs I detected the raspy grumble of my parents’ ancient pickup, and Jesse dropped the kitchen curtain back into place as I joined him, his face uncharacteristically drawn.</p><p>“They’re here,” he said heavily, but when I opened the front door to see Mama waving from the passenger seat and Ada’s little navy Honda following close behind them, warm bubbling excitement eclipsed my nerves. I yanked the screen door open to bolt out and meet them, but Cassidy brought me up short, his grip on my wrist wrenching my shoulder painfully.</p><p>“Yeh need an umbreller,” he reminded me gently, his tone apologetic. I rose on my toes to peck his cheek and grabbed the one nearest the door. Daddy and Ada had parked by then, her little sedan and Tulip’s Chevelle dwarfed between the jeep and the pickup, and I met Mama at the car, throwing my free arm around her and pressing my face to her shoulder.</p><p>“I’m so glad you’re here,” I murmured, and she squeezed me closer.</p><p>“I can’t believe my baby is getting married. It’s really happening.” When I pulled away her eyes were wet, and I took her hand gently.</p><p>“<em>Technically </em>Ash is your baby,” I corrected playfully, and Ash glared from the far side of Ada’s car.</p><p>“Nope,” he shot back smugly. “You stopped aging like six months ago, now you’re the baby. <em>Forever.</em>” He smirked as my mouth worked soundlessly—I had no response, and settled for making a face at him.</p><p>“’S good t’ see yeh, Hazel,” Cass said as he joined us, and when she pulled him into a hug he seemed to melt into her for a moment before he recovered himself with a little shake of his head and stepped back. “Orion,” he greeted Daddy, and they shook hands. “Adelaide,” he greeted her, his eyes sparkling mischievously when she wrinkled her nose at her full name. “Hey up, yeh buncha morons,” he called to Ash and Rowan and Clay, and grinned at the shower of good-humored insults that they threw back at him.</p><p>“I was thinking after lunch we could go back to Anacortes, and maybe you could see the store and the bar?” I suggested to Mama, but her gaze had slipped over my shoulder to the porch. Tulip and Jesse had emerged—Tulip watched my family curiously, absently rubbing her protruding belly in slow circles, but as their eyes fell on him Jesse lowered his gaze, his hands deep in his pockets. My brothers shifted uneasily, edging forward, backs straightened and shoulders squared; Daddy only stared, unblinking, one corner of his lip lifting away from a long canine tooth. “<em>Ash!</em>” I hissed, startling him from his glare, and when he met my pleading eyes he relaxed, an easy grin taking the place of his glare as his eyes turned to Tulip.</p><p>“What was it like, shooting my sister?” he called, amusement clear in his voice. “Let me live vicariously.”</p><p>Tulip smiled, uncertainly at first, but when she caught my eye I nodded encouragingly, and her smile grew. “It was fuckin’ useless, she’s like a tank or somethin’,” she said, and the worst of the tension passed, though Daddy still watched Jesse carefully, unblinking.</p><p>“Daddy, Mama, this is Jesse <em>Custer</em>,” I said, my enunciation pointed. “And Tulip O’Hare, his…partner.” Tulip smirked at the double meaning, and I snorted. “Jess, Tulip, my Daddy, Orion, and Mama, Hazel. My brothers, Rowan, Ash, and Clay. And Rowan’s girlfriend, Ada.”</p><p>Silence fell again as Mama brushed past me to approach the porch, as slowly as though Jesse was a cur that might spook, or worse. He glanced up as she neared, only to lower his gaze again, inclining his head as though in expectation—and acceptance—of blows. Tulip, frowning suspiciously, moved to plant herself between Mama and Jesse, belly and all, but Jesse squeezed her wrist gently, cautioning her away.</p><p>“<em>Hazel…</em>” Daddy rumbled, his tone a warning, but she flapped a hand at him dismissively without breaking stride.</p><p>When she reached the porch steps she simply stood, regarding Jesse carefully, her head tilted just slightly to one side. After a moment, when his head remained bowed, she plucked his hands from his pockets, slow and careful but inexorable, gently tugging until his calloused and battle-scarred hands rested lightly over her palms. At last Jesse met her eyes, his face carefully blank, unreadable.</p><p>“I’m so sorry,” my Mama said; her voice was soft, but my throat ached as it carried to us across the yard, “for what that horrible woman did to your family.”</p><p>Jesse’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, and from where I stood I could see the muscles of his jaw bulge as he clenched his teeth. His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath before he spoke, quiet and cautious, but sincere. “I’m sorry for the part I had in hurtin’ yours.”</p><p>“Thank you.” Mama gave Jesse’s hands a gentle squeeze before she let him go, and he took a half step back, his head down again. Mama turned to us smiling, with gleaming eyes. “Shall we head in? We’ve got a wedding to prepare for.”</p><p>His eyes still averted, Jesse held the door, but Mama gestured for Tulip to go first with an insistent <em>after you, dear</em>, smiling tenderly down at her swollen belly.</p><p>“Coulda gone worse,” Cass murmured, and I released a slow breath like a deflating balloon and hurried to follow Mama inside.</p><p>The benefit of our cozy house was that the tour I gave my family was finished in less than a minute, but the drawback was that even with the hastily scavenged second-hand furniture we’d added to the living room, it simply wasn’t large enough to comfortably hold ten people. Jesse and Tulip spilled over to the kitchen table, content to peer through the open doorway to the living room. Rowan stationed himself on the stairs, planted firmly between Jesse and the rest of the family—when Ada sat between his legs on the next step down his brow furrowed for a moment, but he didn’t protest. The stainless-steel cage where I’d spent full moons before Masada had been replaced by a worn, cozy loveseat, and Mama and Daddy took that, while Ash and Clay took the couch, sprawling sideways across it to keep everyone in sight. When Cass and I had distributed snacks and drinks we settled in a well-loved recliner next to the mantel, wide enough for us to crush in together side by side. </p><p>Mama drilled us relentlessly on each detail of the day like a general planning a pivotal battle, but any exasperation I might have felt was overshadowed by the realization coming again and again that in only forty-eight hours it would all be <em>real. </em>When we reached the ceremony in our read-through, Mama handed the reins to Jesse with impressive grace, and he pulled a sheaf of creased and dog-eared notes from his pocket. His brow furrowed as he looked them over and for a moment I worried, but even his brief summary of the planned vows brought a lump to my throat. Cass entwined his fingers with mine, and when I leaned in, my eyes welling, he rested his cheek against my hair—his sharp, wet sniffle surprised me, and I raised our linked hands to press a kiss to his knuckles.</p><p>When Mama was satisfied that we’d memorized our parts she demanded a rehearsal with our tiny living room playing the part of the chapel, and when that was done there was more talking, more nitpicking over tiny details that I knew full well would be forgotten by the end of the reception but felt crucial to get just so. We talked and planned and checked and double checked until the sun went down—decorations and seating plans and food and drinks and napkin lace and shoes and nail polish colors and pocket squares and a million other things that no one but us would spare more than a glance. By the time Mama reached the end of her list Cass and I were too wrung out to do anything but answer the simplest of yes-or-no questions.  </p><p>At long last everyone felt ready, and Cassidy and I heaved ourselves from our shared recliner to see them off with hugs and handshakes and thanks. We stood on the porch, Cass behind me with his arms around my waist and his chin resting on my head, to watch the truck and the Honda sidle down the driveway. The screen door clattered again, and when I turned I was surprised to see Jesse and Tulip emerging, bags in hand.</p><p>“Yeh’re leavin’?” Cassidy gave voice to my confusion.</p><p>“We were thinkin’, since y’all won’t see each other much until after the weddin’, you might like the house to yourselves tonight,” Jesse explained, and I felt warm with the promise of blessed privacy.</p><p>“Plus, sharin’ one bathroom with three other people is <em>not </em>workin’ out for me right now,” Tulip added. Her grin turned to exasperation when I snatched her bag from her hands to carry it down to the Chevelle. “I’m not <em>broken</em>,” she grumbled half-heartedly, but made no attempt to take the bag back. When they’d loaded themselves in and started the car she rolled down the window and summoned Cassidy. “Get her to the Rosario, tomorrow, no later’n one,” she instructed sternly, and he nodded with a crooked grin.</p><p>“She’ll be t’ere wit’ bells on,” he promised, and returned to me to watch them go.</p><p>After the crowded chaos of the day the silence of the house was a balm, and Cass and I sank onto the couch together gratefully, my legs thrown over his lap and my head resting against his chest.</p><p>“Christ,” he murmured. “If I’d known it was gonna be t’is much work I woulda jes’ dragged yeh t’ Vegas.”</p><p>“No you wouldn’t’ve,” I scoffed, and he grinned crookedly and brushed a kiss over my forehead.</p><p>“Nah, I wouldn’a. But Jaysis, I understand why people do.” I caught one of his hands in mine, kneading his palm with the pads of my thumbs, and he closed his eyes.</p><p>“The hard part is done. Tomorrow the fun stuff starts,” I reminded him, and he nodded, sighing as I worked up his forearm.</p><p>“’S it terrible I’m a wee bit disappointed we di’n’t get t’ see yer Da try an’ fight Jess?” he asked after a while, slitting one eye open, and I tsk-ed.</p><p>“That’s <em>awful, </em>Proinsias,” I scolded. “But me too. A <em>little.</em>” He snorted with quiet laughter and the sound of it made me smile, as always. “I’m surprised how well it went today,” I said, still scarcely daring to believe it, and he nodded.</p><p>“Yer Ma’s a goddamn miracle worker, I t’ink,” he said, and I hummed agreement, curling against his chest again. The house went quiet but for the muted ringing of the windchimes outside and my eyes drifted closed, drinking in the stillness. It wasn’t until he spoke again that I realized I’d been beginning to doze, lulled by the steady rise and fall of his breathing and the slow drum of his heart. “I haven’ always been a good man,” he said haltingly, and my brow furrowed.</p><p>“I know that…” I replied, hesitant—this felt like the beginning of an unwelcome conversation—and his arms tightened around me.</p><p>“I’ve hurt people. Lots of ‘em,” he went on, and I squeezed his hand gently.</p><p>“We both have,” I pointed out, but he shook his head impatiently.</p><p>“Not like th’ Grail. I’ve hurt people when I di’n’t have to. Kilt ‘em, even.” At this I drew back to peer into his face. I expected him to look away, but he held my eyes, intense and searching.</p><p>“Why are you telling me this?” My voice was small, frightened, and now he lowered his gaze to his lap, his brow furrowed.</p><p>“Yeh deserve t’ know. ‘S not who I am anymore, but…I don’ want yeh t’ get yerself legally bound t’ me an’ find out later, end out feelin’ I misled yeh. So t’ere it is.” He stilled as I thought this over, scarcely seeming to breathe as he awaited judgement.</p><p>“When…?” I trailed off, unsure of how to ask, but he understood.</p><p>“Nineteen sixty-one, was th’ las’. He lived, but on’y just.” He swallowed, his fingers curling into loose fists as he remembered. I shivered at the thought of it—I’d thought I’d seen Cass at his worst, with the Grail, with Dennis, and in half a dozen other instances. But I’d been wrong. He seemed to shrink in on himself as silence spun out between us, his head drooping and his lips pressing into a thin line. I took one of his hands, smoothing it flat to cradle it between both of mine, and at the gentle contact he seemed able to breathe again.</p><p>“You coulda told me before my parents got here,” I joked feebly, but I could see as soon as it passed my lips that it landed all wrong; his shoulders hunched as though I’d struck him, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly. “Sorry,” I whispered, squeezing his hand, and when he’d nodded once I lost myself in thought again.</p><p>His admission shouldn’t have come as a surprise—the Cassidy I’d first met had hardly been an upstanding citizen—but it was so easy to forget that the Cass with me now wasn’t who he’d always been. I imagined who I might have become, alone in the world for so long with no roots and no family and the violent hunger for blood constantly bubbling just below the surface, and knew I would have been the same, or worse. I lifted his chin to kiss him, sweet and lingering, and he heaved a sigh of relief, resting his forehead against mine.</p><p>“I love you, Proinsias Cassidy. I’m not going anywhere,” I murmured, and grunted as his arms wrapped around me with crushing force, pulling me flush against his chest.</p><p>“Yeh don’ have any…questions fer me?” he asked cautiously, and I traced the swallow in flight tattooed on his hand as I thought.</p><p>“I don’t think so,” I said finally; in truth I was morbidly curious, but more detail wouldn’t help either of us. “I’m not marrying you sixty years ago, I’m marrying you <em>now.</em>”</p><p>“True enough,” he agreed, his voice hoarse, and when I kissed him again he cradled my face in his hands, sweeping his thumbs along my cheekbones. “How’d I get so lucky, eh?”</p><p>“Probably being funny and handsome and sweet and brave has something to do with it,” I replied, and he flushed to the tips of his ears, as he often did when I complimented him. “And the good dick doesn’t hurt,” I added, and he laughed quietly, pulling me close to rub his cheek against my hair.</p><p>“We should get yeh t’ bed,” he said after a while. “We got a busy couple o’ days comin’.” When I didn’t protest he lifted me gently, cradling me against his chest, and carried me up the stairs to our loft. He laid me down carefully on my side of the bed, and I rolled to watch as he undressed, captivated by the way the moonlight streaming in the window caught the gentle curves and long lines of his slender body.</p><p>He slid under the blankets beside me, eliciting a happy sigh, and when he spooned close against me I scooted back so that I was pressed even more tightly against him. “I love you,” I murmured sleepily, and was rewarded by a light kiss to the back of my neck.</p><p>“I know, t’ough I can’t fer th’ life o’ me sort out why,” he said, and chuckled when a growl rumbled through my chest. “I love you too, <em>mo gréine</em>. Sweet dreams.”</p><p>I spoke unselfconsciously, too sleepy for bashfulness.</p><p>“They can’t be sweeter than this.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for the late-ish post! I'm between school and placement right now so time has lost all meaning. <br/>I hope you enjoy!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0082"><h2>82. The Bach</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Juniper and Cassidy go their separate ways the night before the big day.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Cassidy, this is a <em>bad idea,</em>” I repeated, though I knew it was hopeless. As I expected his brow furrowed, his jaw clenching stubbornly as we linked arms under our shared umbrella.</p><p>“T’ey’re <em>all </em>me mates, an’ I want ‘em <em>all </em>wit’ me!” he replied firmly. Before I could protest again we’d passed from bright sunlight into the lobby of the Rosario Resort and Spa. The floor was gleaming white, with sleek, modern leather furniture scattered here and there throughout. In lieu of walls they’d installed floor-to-ceiling windows without a single smudge to be seen—if we’d arrived at any other time of day, Cass and I would have had to work to avoid the sunlight, but now at midday we were safe. Vivid green plants with wide, spade-shaped leaves in minimalist white planters took the edge off the stark and modern decoration, and soft white lighting gave everyone a flattering glow. Cass elbowed me, nodding toward our gathered wedding party, and I sighed softly, despairing.</p><p>Tulip and Ada were seated together in two of the sleek armchairs provided; Ada waved to me as Cass folded his umbrella. They seemed to be chatting amiably enough, though when Ada reached to touch Tulip’s belly her nostrils flared minutely in the way I knew signaled danger. Jesse sat next to Tulip, thoroughly disengaged from their conversation, his eye on the muted TV running the news—except when it shifted to my brothers. Ash, Rowan, and Clay were seated at a nearby table, pretending to watch the screen, shooting Jesse the occasional suspicious glance. Every so often Jesse would catch one of them looking, and eyes would narrow and shoulders would roll before contact was broken again.</p><p>“A <em>terrible</em> idea,” I muttered darkly, and Cass scoffed.</p><p>“Once t’ey get some drinks in ‘em t’ey’ll be <em>fine,</em>” he assured me, and I wished for his optimism. “An’ besides, if t’ings get testy Jess c’n jes’ Word ‘em into a good mood.” I stopped short, glaring up at him, and he was only able to hold his earnest expression for a moment before a twitch of his lip gave him away and I sighed.</p><p>“Oh, yeah. Great. Nothing eases tensions like mind control,” I grumbled, but by then we’d been spotted, and Rowan, Ash, and Clay surged to their feet to meet us. Over Ash’s shoulder, Jesse pecked Tulip on the cheek and ambled in our direction, his step slow and heavy.</p><p>“Got you something,” Ash said, thrusting a small, lumpy package into Cassidy’s hands. “For the party,” he added unnecessarily as Cass turned his gift in his hands.</p><p>“For the record, I had nothing to do with this,” Clay put in, piquing our curiosity further. Ash watched with an eager grin, and Rowan and Clay with identical expressions of resignation as Cassidy tore the paper away; when the present was freed his delighted guffaw covered my soft sigh.</p><p>The t-shirt was black, a large pair of testicles complete with short, stubbly hairs emblazoned in white over the chest. The shaft of a thick, veiny penis sprouted boldly from the testicles, ending at the neckline of the shirt. Beneath the delightful image in large block letters was the message <em>This dickhead’s getting married! </em> </p><p>“Nice, Ash,” I said, sarcasm heavy in my voice, but Cass was already shrugging out of his jacket, thrusting it into Rowan’s hands so he could yank the t-shirt on over the blue button-up he’d worn. The receptionist, glancing up to greet us, pursed her lips and returned her attention to her computer, the faintest of creases appearing between her perfectly sculpted eyebrows.</p><p>“Suits him,” Jesse said, and heavy silence filled the air for a long moment as my brothers regarded him warily.</p><p>“Thanks,” Ash said finally, with the barest of smiles.</p><p>“This is from me,” Rowan said, and handed Cassidy a little rectangular package—roughly the length and width of a TV remote. Cass blinked when he’d unwrapped it, his confusion visible through his gracious smile. The gift was a chocolate bar wrapped in golden foil, though the company was unfamiliar; the name <em>Opulence</em> was stamped across the top of the bar. “Its an edible,” Rowan said, and Cassidy’s grin turned genuine. “Twenty milligrams of THC per square, is what they said.”</p><p>“Ah, Rowan, yeh really know how t’ touch a man.” Cass broke off the first row of rectangles, distributing one each to Jesse, Rowan, Ash, and Clay, before snapping off another eight squares for himself—when he offered me one I shook my head, and he popped that one into his mouth with the rest.</p><p>“I got you somethin’ too. Well, we did, Tulip picked it.” Jesse dug in his inner jacket pocket for a moment before producing a flask of gleaming silver metal, with <em>sláínte </em>engraved in one side. Cass took it gently, almost reverently, his grin softening. His hand dipped, as though he were surprised by the flask’s weight, and it sloshed when he rocked it. “That in there’s rubbin’ alcohol, coffee machine descaler, and shite out the back of a broken air conditioning unit,” Jesse said by way of explanation, and when Cassidy’s nose wrinkled he smirked. “It’s moonshine.”</p><p>Mollified, Cass upended the flask, draining it in one go while Ash and Clay watched with wide eyes and Jess, Rowan and I exchanged exasperated glances. When it was empty he dragged his forearm across his mouth, his eyes closing briefly in satisfaction. “T’ank yeh, Padre, that‘s lovely,” he said, and pocketed the empty flask—his words were perfectly clear, though the burn of alcohol on his breath stung my eyes and made my head swim. “I got yeh somet’in’ fer tonight, hang on…” He thrust his hand into his back pocket, one brow furrowed, and produced what I thought was a rhinestone studded thong, until Jesse untangled the cord and held it up.</p><p>“Christ almighty,” he sighed, but when Cassidy only watched him expectantly he turned away for a moment, slipping his usual eyepatch off and into his pocket before he turned back, his face grimly accepting. In the black eyepatch’s place was a new one, its entire surface covered in sparkling, hot pink sequins, and I pressed my lips together to hide my grin—a courtesy my brothers couldn’t be bothered with.</p><p>“Dashing,” I teased, and Jesse rolled his eye.</p><p>“Are we ready to go?” he asked grumpily, but before they could leave I grabbed Ash and Clay by the arm.</p><p>“<em>Listen to me</em>,” I said, and at the urgency in my voice they were suddenly serious, intent on what I had to say. “Do <em>not</em> try to keep up with Cassidy. You will die. If you die, it will ruin my wedding.” Rowan and Jesse nodded, both having learned this lesson the hard way, but Clay and Ash seemed unimpressed.</p><p>“I think we can handle—” Clay began, indignant, but Rowan cut across him, looking queasy at the memory of the hangover that had followed his day out with Cass.</p><p>“No. No you cannot,” he said, and to my pleasant surprise he and Jesse exchanged brief, sympathetic smiles.</p><p>“I won’ let anyt’in’ happen to ‘em!” Cass scoffed, and I shook my head. </p><p>“You don’t need to babysit them, it’s your party. <em>They</em> just need to not be stupid,” I said with a severe glare at Clay and Ash. When they still seemed disbelieving I sighed. “<em>Promise </em>you’ll be sensible,” I pleaded, and at last I received reluctant nods.</p><p>“I’ll have ‘em all to the altar on time if I have to prop ‘em up like scarecrows, quit worryin’,” Jesse assured me, and didn’t notice or ignored the baleful looks my brothers shot him. “Let’s get goin’,” he pushed, and he, Rowan, Ash, and Clay started away, but Cass stayed behind, taking my hand gently.</p><p>“I got somet’in’ fer yeh,” he said, digging in another pocket. For a moment I feared more rampant bedazzling, but he only dropped a single heavy coin into my open palm—a little larger than a quarter and thicker, the matte bronze of an old penny. I turned it slowly in my fingers, curious; the profile of a bald man with a hooked nose was stamped on one side, and Latin script marched around its edge. On the other side, a warrior in a plumed helmet rested on a stone, armed with a trident and a shield emblazoned with the Union Jack. This side read <em>one penny</em> and <em>1910</em>—my eyebrows rose at the date.</p><p>“Let’s <em>go!</em>” Ash called impatiently, and Cass waved them off without looking.  </p><p>“’S a silly, old-fashioned t’ing, from when I was a lad,” he explained, his smile sweet and shy. “But a bride puttin’ a penny in ‘er shoe—th’ left one, <em>not </em>th’ right—‘s supposed t’ bring good luck.” He paused, and his smile turned mischievous. “’S s’posed t’ keep yeh safe, too, an’ God knows yeh need a bit o’ that.”</p><p>I couldn’t bring myself to respond to the teasing, too touched by the sweetness of his gesture. I closed my fist around the penny, pressing it to my chest. “Left shoe, not right. Got it,” I repeated, and he beamed. “So…I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess?” My heart seemed to speed in my chest like the wings of a hummingbird, overcome with excitement and eagerness—and just a touch of angst at the thought of the long night without him.</p><p>“I’ll be th’ one cryin’ like a baby at the altar,” he said with a grin, and then abruptly he pulled me to him, crushing me against his chest; he rubbed his cheek against my hair for a moment before he lowered his head to murmur in my ear. “Don’ be late, alright? Christ knows I’ve had my fill o’ waitin’ on yeh already.”</p><p>A hard lump filled my throat, and all I could do was nod in response, returning his embrace.</p><p>“It’s <em>less</em> than twenty-four hours, can you please stop being gross?” Rowan jeered, and Cass sniffed once before he straightened, turning on them with a grin.</p><p>“That excited t’ get yer stomachs pumped, are yeh?” he called, and I sighed, already doubting their promises not to overdo it. But I smiled as I watched them go, their taunting and banter carrying back to me in the echoing lobby as they sauntered out the door.</p><p>When they’d gone I joined Tulip and Ada, both smiling after their men from their seats in the reception area. As soon as I sat Tulip pursed her lips, her eyes worried.</p><p>“Are you <em>sure </em>you don’t wanna drink and party? You’re allowed; just ‘cause I have this thing in me doesn’t mean <em>you </em>can’t have fun,” she said, poking the side of her protruding belly. A moment later she laid her palm over the spot she’d prodded, smiling mistily. When she met my hopeful gaze she nodded once, and I pressed my hand to her stomach to feel a volley of tiny, fierce kicks.</p><p>“God, she’s gonna be a handful,” I said, shutting away a stab of wistful envy, and Tulip laughed. “We can go drinking any time, and I don’t want my maid of honor to be left out. This is <em>perfect</em>,” I assured her, and she nodded, satisfied.</p><p>“Come on, then,” she said, though at the command both Ada and I bounced up faster than she could. She only scoffed when we offered help, ignoring our outstretched hands, and after that she straightened more easily, as though to spite us. She led us down a hallway, deeper into the resort, until we reached another reception area—this one all soft, curving lines, the only sounds the gentle bubbling of a decorative fountain and soft, ethereal music that seemed to emanate from all around us.</p><p>“Do I get to know what exactly they’re going to do to us?” I asked quietly; it would have felt sacrilegious to speak above a murmur.</p><p>“Nope,” Tulip said with a smirk, and confirmed our arrival with the hostess. In seconds we were summoned to yet another room, decorated in more ivories and creams and eggshells, with three massage tables side by side. Two of them were what I’d expected, but the third had a wide oval opening at stomach level—for Tulip, I realized with a smile.</p><p>“Your complimentary robes…” Our hostess held out an armful of white terrycloth, but I waved her away.</p><p>“I came prepared,” I said with a grin, holding up a giftbag, and the hostess left us.</p><p>“You didn’t have to get us anything!” Ada gushed when I handed her a package, and I shushed her.</p><p>Tulip’s expression grew incredulous as she tore away the paper from her gift to reveal a pastel pink silk robe with <em>maid of honor</em> embroidered in gleaming white across the back, and when she met my gaze she raised her eyebrows.</p><p>“I know they’re silly, alright? Let me have this,” I said, laughing, and she rolled her eyes and turned away to change.</p><p>“I <em>love </em>it!” Ada was beaming, her robe clutched to her chest, and needed no encouragement to put it on. My own, white with pink lettering, felt like cool water against my skin as I shrugged into it.</p><p>The masseuses, when they came, were bizarrely reverent; they spoke in hushed voices, their hands ghosting over our skin as they directed us onto our tables.</p><p>“Do <em>not </em>tell Jesse I got massaged by a dude,” Tulip said. I had just enough time to wonder whether Cassidy would have anything to say about the fine young man standing over my near-naked body before he got started, and conscious thought was carried away like a leaf in the eddies and currents of a lazy stream.</p><p>I came back to myself slowly as the frequency and firmness of the masseuse’s strokes fell away, and blinked awake—though I was unsure of whether I’d actually slept. My body felt melted to the table, and I resented the very idea of moving, clinging to the feeling of heavy, boneless contentment that had washed over me. But Tulip and Ada weren’t having it, poking and prodding me until at last I rolled from the massage bed to my feet and tugged on my robe back on to follow them.</p><p>The next room was slightly less alien, with a row of well-padded, comfortable-looking salon chairs that each had an attached sink with deep grooves for our necks to rest in. Yet more attendants met us, impossibly beautiful and still speaking in low murmurs, as though we were in a sacred space. Ada, Tulip and I were each ushered to a chair, and then my attendant leaned in close, squinting at me until I swallowed nervously.</p><p>“<em>Hmm,</em>” she said, and swatted my hand away when I reached to touch my face self-consciously. “Oily.” She nodded to herself, like a philosopher who’s just stumbled across the answer to a great quandary of humankind, and left me only to return a moment later with a bowl and brush in hand. She turned my face this way and that as she painted my skin with a cool goop that smelled of lavender and chamomile, <em>tsk</em>-ing gently when I flinched.</p><p>When she’d finished with my face, my hair was meticulously inspected from root to tip and I watched my attendant’s face carefully, feeling insecure—was it possible to do a bad job at having hair? After slowly rolling lock of my hair between her fingers with narrowed eyes, she whisked away and returned with a new bowl that smelled lightly of coconut and flowers. I tensed for a moment as the warm oil spilled over my scalp, but when she went to work massaging it into every root and shaft and follicle I sighed softly, my eyes drifting closed.</p><p>“Massage oil, hair oil…they’re soakin’ me in so much oil I might as well be a snack at a county fair,” Tulip said after, but her easy smile betrayed her buoyant mood.   </p><p>“Have either of you heard from the boys since they left?” I asked suddenly, resenting the spike of anxiety that marred my otherwise perfect relaxation.</p><p>“Rowan’s under strict orders to call if someone’s life is in danger,” Ada assured me, and Tulip rolled her eyes.</p><p>“Which <em>won’t happen</em>. Jesse’s not gonna hurt your brothers, Juniper, Jesus.” At this Ada and I stopped short, our eyebrows rising incredulously.</p><p>“You think my brothers—my <em>three </em>brothers—are the ones I’m worried about getting hurt?” I asked, and Tulip scoffed.</p><p>“Uh, <em>duh.</em> Have you met Jesse?”</p><p>“Have you <em>seen </em>Rowan?” Ada shot back, grinning, and I laughed.</p><p>“Rowan could just plant his hand on Jesse’s forehead and hold him back until he gets tired,” I teased, and Tulip sputtered indignantly.</p><p>“Okay but then Jesse could just Word—” she began.</p><p>“No Word! Genesis is cheating!” I said, laughing, and now she grinned too.</p><p>“No wolfin’ out then either, and if they’re anything like you they can’t fight for shit as humans.” Tulip raised her chin triumphantly as I pressed both hands to my chest.</p><p>“<em>Hurtful</em>. And on the eve of my wedding, too.” I couldn’t hang on to my wounded expression as I spoke, giddiness stretching my lips into a wide smile.</p><p>“So, wait, you think Jesse could take <em>three </em>other guys on his own?” Ada asked, clearly thinking Tulip’s faith was misplaced.</p><p>“With one hand behind his back,” Tulip said smugly, and Ada rolled her eyes. “Probably blindfolded, too.”</p><p>“And where’s Cassidy in all this?” I pursed my lips as Ada turned to me, deep in thought.</p><p>“Watching, probably,” I replied finally, and our laughter filled the hall.</p><p>The playful argument continued—moving the fight to different settings, adding and subtracting weapons and arbitrary rules—until we reached the nail salon, the reek of acetone noticeable long before it came into view.</p><p>“I’m Tulip, we’re here for the bridal package.” Tulip said to the receptionist, and I rose on my toes, too excited to be still.</p><p>The receptionist opened a beautiful, glossy appointment book, trailing one perfectly shaped nail down the page. “Right! Tulip. I have you down for three gel manicures, is that right?”</p><p>“Right!” Tulip chirped, but Ada’s eyes opened wide in horror.</p><p>“<em>No!</em>” she snapped, and Tulip turned to glare, plainly insulted. “I just…worry that the UV light might be bad for Juniper’s…skin condition,” she squeaked, nodding to a pair of women with their hands thrust under a bright blue light—my eyes first stung and then burned as I followed her gaze, and I rubbed them fiercely.</p><p>“No UV might be better,” I said, muffled by my fists, and when the pain had faded a bit I smiled reassuringly at Tulip. “Maybe just acrylics this time.”</p><p>“Perfect!” The receptionist seemed unruffled as she added a note to our appointment slot; if she noticed anything odd, she didn’t show it. “Three <em>acrylic</em> French manicures. Follow me.”</p><p>“I’m sorry!” Tulip hissed as we trekked further into the salon—I kept my eyes carefully down and away from the UV lights that seemed to be everywhere. “Figures I’d screw somethin’ up.”</p><p>“Stop that,” I said, looping my arm through hers. “I wouldn’t have known either.” When the dismay didn’t leave her face I bumped her shoulder lightly with mine. “You’re the best maid of honor I’ve ever had,” I assured her, and she scoffed.</p><p>When we were settled the Guidry’s versus Custer argument kicked up again; in this hypothetical they could only items in the nail salon as weapons, much to the amusement of the technicians. This led to Tulip telling us—and trying to act out—a fight she and Jesse’d had with TC and Jody using only improvised weapons found in a bathroom, and I tilted my head to listen, trying to ignore the odd sensation of having my cuticles pushed back.  </p><p>I couldn’t stop admiring my nails as I followed Tulip and Ada down yet another hallway, not particularly caring where they took me. They’d never been so perfectly uniform, so beautifully rounded and gleaming smooth, and when I wasn’t staring at them I tucked my hands against my chest, wary of chipping them in the few hours remaining before the wedding.</p><p>It wasn’t until I bumped into Ada, too distracted by my manicure to watch where I was going, that I realized she and Tulip had stopped. We were outside one of the hotel room doors; the last one in the hallway. Tulip pulled a card key from her pocket with a flourish and a smile and let us in, and my eyes widened.</p><p>“Oh my <em>God,</em> Tulip,” I breathed, but when I saw her triumphant grin I couldn’t help but return it.</p><p>Someone had brought up Tulip and Ada’s bags—they rested unobtrusively next to the king-sized bed, and their bridesmaid dresses hung in garment bags in the open closet. It wasn’t until I wandered closer that I realized my duffel bag was there too. I opened it, curious, and with my toothbrush and favorite pyjamas and cuddly slippers there was a note in Cassidy’s tiny, spiky script. <em>I love you! Counting down the hours til tomorrow. Hope you’re having fun…I’m probably crying into my beer missing you. </em>I pressed it to my chest for just a moment and replaced it before I could tear up. After I zipped the bag closed again I stood to survey the rest of the room. On the far side of the bed, a platter of cheese and crackers, cold cuts and fresh fruit rested next to a bucket of ice containing a bottle of champagne—when I turned a frown on Tulip she shrugged unapologetically.</p><p>“I’m not lettin’ you get through your bachelorette completely sober, alright? It’s just not gonna happen,” she said, and I laughed.</p><p>On the dresser next to the TV was a stack of DVDs, and Tulip and Ada came to stand at my side as I shuffled through them. <em>The Notebook, Beauty and the Beast, Cold Mountain, Pride and Prejudice…</em>I smiled as I began to recognize the theme.</p><p>“We thought it’d be fun to watch a bunch of—” Ada hesitated as I reached <em>Zack and Miri Make a Porno</em>, her nose wrinkling as she glanced sidelong at Tulip. “—<em>romantic </em>movies,” she finished pointedly, and Tulip rolled her eyes.</p><p>“It <em>is </em>romantic, just cause there’s dicks in it doesn’t mean it can’t be romantic,” Tulip snapped, and I got the strong impression that this wasn’t the first time the issue had been raised.</p><p>“But before movies, presents,” Ada said, seeming to pull a giftbag from thin air, and I felt my cheeks begin to heat.</p><p>“You didn’t have to—” I began, but Tulip cut me off as Ada shushed me.</p><p>“Yes we <em>did, </em>now siddown and open ‘em!” she ordered, and I obediently retreated to sit cross-legged on the bed. Tulip and Ada joined me, Tulip pressed a tall champagne flute into my hand, and Ada placed the suspiciously heavy bag in my lap.</p><p>“This is from Rowan and me,” she said. “He said—” Here her mouth curved in a faint grin. “He said being married to Cassidy you’ll probably need the help to de-stress.”</p><p>I rolled my eyes, but when the first item out of the bag was a pair of fluffy grey socks with <em>Mrs </em>on one sole and <em>Cassidy </em>on the other I squeaked happily and pulled them on, wiggling my toes as Ada and Tulip laughed. I plunged my arm into the bag again—for a moment I thought the little foil packages I came back with were condoms, but on closer examination they proved to be facemasks; ones with names like <em>Relax </em>and <em>Slow Down. </em>Next came a package of bath bombs molded into the shape of colorful macarons, embedded with dried flower petals. The last item in the bag was a huge three-wicked candle that smelled of ylang-ylang and jasmine; my eyes drifted closed as I inhaled. When they opened again Ada was beaming at me expectantly, and I threw my arms around her.</p><p>“Thank you! I love it all,” I said. “<em>Especially </em>the socks,” I added, flexing my toes again.</p><p>“You’re welcome! Congratulations, Juniper.” She gave me one final squeeze before she let me go, and Tulip plunked a box wrapped in floral wallpaper into my lap.</p><p>“This is from me and<em> only </em>me,” she said, and I smiled. I began to tear the paper, then paused, squinting, and dissolved into giggles—what I’d first thought were flowers were penises of every length, width, and state of arousal imaginable. Tulip smirked, evidently quite pleased with herself, and after a moment Ada identified the flowers for what they were and fell back against the pillows, laughing.</p><p>When we’d recovered ourselves I pulled away the paper and opened the box to an eyeful of white fabric, all lace and straps and gauzy clouds. I couldn’t make sense of it until I’d laid it all out on the bed, and then my skin burned from my collar to the tips of my ears. The chemise was sheer, almost gossamer, other than a bit of lace that would cover my nipples. The garter belt and straps intimidated me—which part went where? And would that tiny belt really hold up the thigh-highs? The stockings themselves were beautiful, sheer again, with thick bands of lace at the top and twin seams up the backs. But the crown jewel of it all was the panties—more sheer lace, except for one solid panel in the front, where silver embroidery read <em>Mrs. Cassidy.</em></p><p>“Tulip—” I croaked, still blushing furiously, and she scoffed at my hesitation.</p><p>“Trust me, he’ll <em>love </em>it. Bet my life that man loses his shit for a garter belt,” she assured me, though of course there was never any question that Cass would approve. Before I could fully recover she was shoving something else into my hands, something small and hard and square, and when I looked down I groaned, my face growing still warmer. <em>The Pocket Kama Sutra</em>, the cover informed me. <em>Now with color diagrams!</em></p><p>“Tulip!” I protested again, and Ada snatched the book from my hands, flipping through it and nodding, her brow furrowed in mock concentration as Tulip laughed.</p><p>“Ooh, the wheelbarrow, you’ll have to try that one for sure,” she teased, and when I peered over her shoulder my eyes widened.</p><p>“No thank you,” I said emphatically, and they laughed and put the book away. The rest of the box was packed with sex toys and tools and props: cock rings (vibrating and non), a blindfold, nylon rope, heating massage oil, flavored lube…in spite of my embarrassment I found my curiosity piqued at the idea of sharing the box with Cassidy. I’d hit my limit, though, when at the bottom of the box I found a hot pink, vibrating, beaded butt plug.</p><p>“<em>Tulip!</em>” I dropped it back in the box hastily, and Tulip snorted, snatching it and poking at me with it as I squealed and retreated.</p><p>“It’s for <em>him</em>, Juniper! You said he liked gettin’ it in the ass!” she finally explained. At that I paused, eyeing the plug with new interest.</p><p>“…I did say that, yeah,” I admitted, and when snatched it from her hand to test its vibration against my palm, I began to smile as the possibilities took shape in my mind.</p><p>“Ohhh, there it is, now she’s excited,” Ada teased, and shrieked when I swatted at her with the plug, laughing.</p><p>Gifts done, we settled side by side to get started on the stack of movies, the charcuterie board balanced across my thighs and the champagne tucked between Ada and I—we couldn’t be bothered with glasses and sipped it straight from the bottle. We started with <em>Zack and Miri </em>at Tulip’s insistence, but she fell asleep halfway through, too early to hear Ada begrudgingly (and slightly drunkenly) admit that it was, in fact, a romantic movie. We watched <em>The Notebook</em> next, though thankfully Ada dozed off before she could witness the end reducing me to an ugly, tearstained mess, leaving me to finish the champagne alone. When <em>The Notebook </em>was done I slowly, carefully slipped off the bed and started <em>Moulin Rouge</em>. Before I crawled back under the blankets I pulled Cassidy’s note from my bag, holding it close to my chest as I watched. I wanted to finish it, but the day had been long, and it was late, and I dozed off with the strains of ‘Come What May’ in my ears.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>IT'S GETTING SO CLOSE. <br/>I love y'all for sticking with me!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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